a little more on being far from my closest friends

Being a verbal processor and staying quiet for extended periods of time is difficult.  (And no, reading simple English sentences from a textbook to a classroom full of Japanese teens and preteens doesn’t count.) I’m ready to take up talking to myself just to work through the countless undeveloped ideas bouncing around in my head. Typing brings temporary relief, but is not a solution. I am a communal being. A part of me is smothered when I am away from intimate community for too long.  How I long to have two sided conversations about things that are important in my life, and hear wise insight from those who know me best.  I feel like I should go back to counseling, just so someone will listen to my thoughts. I don’t care if it’s like buying a friend – at this point, it’d be worth it!

I think it is a basic human desire to have our voices, thoughts, and opinions, heard and valued. How does that happen when you move to a new place and don’t have intimate acquaintances?

In my head, I answer my own question. “Prayer.” But I quickly refute this answer because God doesn’t respond audibly and engage in conversation the way close friends do. They have voices to which my ears have been trained to listen.

Do I need to be trained to hear God this way? How does one train herself to do this?

6,000 miles

I am effectively lonely. And it’s okay. The last time I was lonely, I sent a text message to my Japanese lover who had previously told me, “If you ever feel lonely or homesick, please tell me.” I sent him a message to let him know, and he didn’t respond. So I stayed in my room all evening feeling sorry for myself and being pissy. While pouting at my desk, I ended up talking to friends from Sevilla via facebook. It was beautiful.

He didn’t respond because he was at work, and he is not allowed to have his cell phone at work because he does top secret stuff test driving cars that won’t hit the market until about 5 years from now. (It’s a hot job, I know, that’s why he’s my lover ;-)). I didn’t know what to do when he didn’t respond. I am accustomed to getting my way. If I say jump, the people around me generally love me enough and have enough freedom to say “How high?” This is not because I’m a controlling dictator of a friend or a bully. It is because I am usually surrounded by people who genuinely and deeply love me. (And it helps that I’m not the Girl Who Cried Wolf, so they don’t have tired legs from constantly jumping on command)

I don’t have that here in Japan. And it is okay. It is natural. I have been here 112 days. I don’t speak Japanese. I didn’t come with friends. It is completely normal for me to be lonely.  Intimate friendships take time. Trust takes time.

So today, instead of locking myself in my room in an attempt to sulk (that turned into something much more beautiful, praise God!), I will give thanks for the wonderful friendships I have at home in the States, and I will give myself permission to feel the emotions that naturally come with being 6,000 miles from the people who love me most.

Today I am lonely.

real life.

Okay, here goes. Up until now, this blog has been mostly trivial, cheesy, shallow, and (hopefully) mildly humorous. I'm okay with the things I've written, because they're an accurate representation of my adventures in Japan. However, I have kept out some really important things in an attempt to be "sensitive to my audience." I've given this web address to many people, and my readers have many different life experiences, ideologies, etc, so I've kept things pretty safe. It's pretty much been like PC dinner conversation, you know, "How's the weather?" type stuff. But those of you who know me best know that I can't keep that up for too long. I'm blunt, I speak boldly, and it's not unheard of for me to be controversial or offensive.

     It is also very important to me that people know me, even if they don't understand. When people don't know me, I feel lonely. To prevent this, I need to be real, open, honest, and... (as I cringe) vulnerable. In an attempt to do so, I will share the following information:

     Many of you have heard of a splendid person I like to refer to as "my Japanese lover." He is indeed not my lover in any of the typical senses of the word (aka, we're not in love, we don't make love, we haven't confessed our love, etc). He is my lover in that he is a lovely person, he loves others, and he's not officially my boyfriend so I don't know what else to call him. He also has a name. It's Kousuke (Koh-su-kay). You should know that even as I write this, I am wincing at the idea of being this vulnerable. It's so... uncomfortable.

    Many of you have not heard about the complicated thoughts and emotions that surround my relationship with Kousuke. I really want to share my life with loved ones (that's you), and due to geographical location, this is the most practical way to do it. In reading this blog (or listening to me tell a story in person) you've all seen that I'm w-o-r-d-y. I can't help it. I don't know how to change it. I'm my father's daughter. So, I'll try to keep it concise by pasting and email I wrote to a friend along with the friend's response:

My email: 

I'm really enjoying life in Japan. I'm learning A LOT. Lately, I've been asking a lot of important questions. I have some really great Japanese friends here, and none of them are "Christians," but they are wonderful people and I cannot fathom God loving them any less than God loves those of us who label ourselves "Christians."
I really enjoy spending time with one particular friend, and he enjoys my company as well. For awhile I tried to deny any feelings beyond desire to be his friend because he's "not a Christian" and a romantic interest in him must be "sinful" or "displeasing to God" or "a threat to my faith" or something. But I soon stopped trying to deny it and basically told God, "Here are these feelings. I don't know what to do with them, but I know they don't scare or threaten You so please, Your will be done." 
So now, this man (Kousuke) and I see each other regularly and very much enjoy one another's company, and I don't feel guilty or wrong at all. But there's a tiny little voice in the back of my head that continues to ask me if maybe I should feel guilty. 
      Now I'm trying to sort through all of the things I've been told about God and God's love from various sources in my life. I've decided that God loves people without restrictions or criteria, and I'm trying to do the same, but trying to apply that to romantic relationships is a hard step to take. I don't have a plan for the future. I don't know where I see things with Kousuke going. I just really enjoy the present with him. I don't know what to do with that. I don't know if I like the idea of marrying a man who won't be actively pursuing the heart of God on my behalf and our behalf. This is a long way off, but I wonder if it's fair for me to spending so much time with Kousuke when I have these questions in the back of my mind.

What do you think? What is your response to this? I would really appreciate your insight.

Friend's Response:

Romantic relationships are hard to sort out.  When you begin to love someone romantically and also want to love that person as a “neighbor,” it’s hard to know what to do or how to do it.  I do not think that a romantic relationship with a non-Christian is out of the question for you.  I do think that it is important—at least for his sake—for you to be clear about what you’ve given your life to and that a serious relationship with you will mean supporting you in your commitment to the gospel.  That doesn’t mean that he would have to become a Christian, but he would probably have to live (practically) as if he were one.  That is, he wouldn’t have the option of sitting idly by while you go about your Christian life.  That would be two parallel lives.  And that isn’t good for either of you or for your marriage.  I think it would probably be good for you to begin to let him in on the importance of Jesus and of the church for you.  You don’t need to dump all of this on him at once and certainly he knows already quite a bit of this, but over time he probably should come to realize what life with you would entail.

So there's that. My friend is wise and I'm thankful for him. I'm exploring how those words should influence my actions. It's tricky. It's real and there's a lot of grey area. I have many thoughts and emotions that have yet to fit nicely into some pretty pattern. Pray for me. God moves. Talk to me. Tell me what wisdom God has given you. And finally - affirm me! I've just been really vulnerable!

eyes like a child

I just had an epiphany regarding receiving things like a child. Acabo de terminar (As I poured out my thoughts via my fingertips, the Spanish phrase came to mind before the English, so I went with it. Now I will leave it because Spanish is a beautiful language, and need not be edited out. I will simply translate it "I just finished") watching a YouTube video of a Brazillian pop song. The video is composed entirely of clips of beautiful and unique people talking, dancing and enjoying life, while singing about love. As I watched for the second time, I was startled by how different this viewing experience was from my first viewing experience.  When I first watched the video, I was captivated. I took in every detail, the people, their faces, their actions, their expressions, their emotions. The second time I watched, everything seemed to move much quicker, almost like I was watching on fast forward. It seems strange that I was able to observe so much in the first viewing. Then I realized that as I watched the second time, I was constantly scanning for the familiar things, the things that I remembered most clearly, the things that stuck out the most. I had already formed an idea of what I would see in the video, so I looked for those specific things. In doing so, I was looking through the images on the screen, waiting for the next thing I remembered, the next familiar thing. I ended up completely disregarding about 60% of the video while constantly anticipating those parts I remembered. The first time I watched the video I saw so much more, I felt so much more - I noticed colors, surroundings, expressions, emotions, body language, hair styles, clothing, eye color, facial features, age, socio-economic status, joy, sorrow...

     Immediately after identifying the change in the way I perceived the video, my mind went in this direction - children experience life as I experienced the video the first time I watched it. Everything is new and fresh. They take in everything - and there are a million things to take in: colors, patterns, textures, emotions, body language, words, tones, smells, sounds, scenery. Children are constantly taking in so much, constantly making hundreds, even thousands, of observations. They aren't searching for familiar things or anticipating the next thing because they don't know what is familiar or what will come next. Nothing is routine. Everything is new. What a beautiful way to live. How much richer is a child's experience than that of an adult presumes to know, and settles into routines, categories, expectations...

"and he said, 'Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children,

 you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. 

Whoever humbles himself as this child,

 he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Matthew 18:3-4

I think this is a part of what Jesus was talking about...

things worth mentioning

These are just a few things. parts of my daily life that I have become accustomed to and no longer think twice about, but it occurred to me that they might be of interest to people who aren't living in Japan.

school lunch always involves rice, some sort of soup and some sort of salad, usually some version of seaweed salad. everyday. along with creamy milk in a glass bottle that is later cleaned and reused.

there are no lunch ladies or cafeterias. students serve their fellow students. before doing so, they don white chef-esque uniforms and students line up to grab trays and be served by their classmates in their classrooms.

after lunch the whole school brushes their teeth. there are trough-style sinks in the hallways and students stand around brushing their teeth and talking to one another in garbled, mouth-full-of-toothpaste Japanese. teachers brush their teeth in the privacy of the teachers' room, but, rest assured, the super-sanitary and aesthetically-pleasing talking while brushing takes place there, as well.

speaking of a teachers room. they have one. teachers do not have their own classrooms. students have classrooms, and teachers must go to the different classrooms and teach the students associated with each one. the grades are divided into classes, and these students stay together in their classroom for the academic year.

at the end of the day all teachers and students tie bandanas on their heads and line up in two rows, facing one another in the hallways. music plays over the intercom, and we bow to one another while saying, in unison, "onegaishimasu" or please, and then begin cleaning. students are assigned to different areas all around school and everyday the whole school is cleaned, without a single janitor. during cleaning time, the same poor quality karaoke style instrumental songs play - including "Cheer Up Sleepy Jean." after cleaning, we line up and bow once more, while saying "gokurosamadeshita" or I appreciate your efforts.

all of my students must wear uniforms. the boys wear plaid pants with a white shirt, a plaid tie, and a blue jacket (see photo above). the girls wear the same blue jacket, also over a white shirt, but with a boy tie and a knee-length plaid skirt. all students wear a plastic nameplate with their names written in kanji symbols pinned on the left side of their jacket. under their uniforms, all students wear their school sweats - boys wear bright blue (perhaps aquamarine?) gym shorts with white shirts, and girls wear sea green gym shorts with white shirts. After PE class, students are allowed to stay in their sweats. They also have pull-over sweatshirts and parachute-style sweat pants which they can wear for PE in the winter.

we don't wear outside shoes inside. students have white canvas slip-ons to wear indoors. the rubber soles are either green, yellow or blue, depending on what grade the students are in. teachers can wear whatever indoor shoes they choose. there are also slippers available for visitors.

in the school gym, everyone must wear special shoes. students have special gym shoes, all matching of course. everyone else can use the slippers that are kept on a shelf outside the gym entrance.

students cannot wear makeup, decorative hair ties, jewelry or nail polish. they also cannot have their hair hanging down.

this is a brief sketch of middle school in japan. enjoy.

Part 2

... as promised, the entertaining situations continue....

Disclaimer: if the female cycle upsets you, you may be mildly offended by this post. Please allow me to kindly encourage you to suck it up because 50% of the world's population has a period. It's not rare, secret, taboo, or hush-hush. The word is out - women have periods - all of them (until menopause of course). Now please read my post. I promise it's not graphic, that would just be unnecessary.

Today at work, I realized I needed a feminine product. Around 2 o'clock, I was in desperate need. I anxiously surveyed the teachers office, only to find that all but 3 of my co-workers were teaching class, and would be doing so for the next 45 minutes. The 3 co-workers who remained were: the male head teacher, the male school clerk, and the male vice principal - all very high ranking employees, all very unapproachable in this circumstance. So, I wracked my brain, searched my Japanese/English pocket dictionary and decided I would find the school nurse and show her the page in my book that had the Japanese translation for "tampon" and "sanitary napkin" hoping she could quickly and discretely help me out. However, even the thought of going through with this embarrassed me. I sat at my desk contemplating for 5 whole minutes, half trying to muster up the courage, half trying to sink under my desk. Finally, I gave myself a countdown, and pushed my chair away from my desk, pocket dictionary in hand, index finger marking the correct page, heart pounding in my chest.

   I jumped to my feet and darted by my co-workers, completely avoiding eye-contact. When I reached the door, I did a quick visual sweep of the hallway to ensure that there were no students in sight. The coast was clear - so I began my journey to the nurse's office. When I reached the door of the office, I paced outside for a few seconds, surveying the door and trying to make sense of the Japanese signs and posters. There were two sets of sliding doors, that I believed would enter the office. I walked to the set under the wooden sign with baby blue bubble letters that read "Nurse's Office." The left sliding door had a picture of a raised hand with a red circle and slash. I decided that meant - "Don't open this door!" So I nervously pawed the right sliding door, but it didn't move. I couldn't tell if it was because of my pathetic effort or because it was locked, but I had reached the end of my courageous streak and I scurried back to the teachers office, to the sanctuary that was my desk.

    At my desk, I began to weigh my options once more. Only 4 of my coworkers speak English, and all 4 were teaching class. I could wait for them to finish, but the idea of asking one of my coworkers for helped with this matter seemed even more embarrassing than going to the nurse. I sat in my chair and tried to disappear. When I realized it wasn't working, I began reading the Japanese words for "tampon" and "sanitary napkin" over and over, hoping maybe one would appear if I could correctly pronounce the Japanese in my head.

...It didn't happen. 

Then I remembered that I had seen some kanji characters on the door I had feebly tried to open. The symbols looked familiar, like something I had learned the night before - but I couldn't remember if they meant "entrance" or "exit." I looked through my pocket dictionary, secretly hoping to discover that the kanji meant exit. Then I would have no possible way of entering the nurse's office, and, therefore, wouldn't have to turn bright red while pointing to Japanese words, hoping the nurse understood and could stealthily slip me the goods without revealing them to the students who might also be in the nurse's office...

To my distress, I found that the kanji I had seen was indeed 入口, pronounced iriguchi, translated effectively to "entrance." Boo. I knew I must return and confidently slide open that door, march up to the nurse, boldly point to the Japanese words, and proudly accept the products she handed me.

So I returned once more to the door of the nurse's office, only to find that the doors were indeed locked - both sets of them. Blast.

Now I had no choice but to sit at my desk and wait for my English-speaking co-workers to return to the teacher's office. I decided that upon her return, I would ask Ms. Tanaka, the head English teacher, whose desk is next to mine.

When class finally ended, the teachers returned, but Ms. Tanaka was with three students, making her completely off limits. When they left, it was already time for school cleaning - in which I must participate. So off I went to sweep floors and move desks...

About 10 minutes into cleaning, I decided I could wait no longer. I handed my broom and dustpan to one of the students and set off to find Ms. Tanaka. But as I walked toward her, I realized that I didn't even know what English word, if any, she would recognize. Should I say "maxi pad" or maybe "sanitary napkin"? But her English is pretty good, maybe I could just say "pad"? Before I could decide, I was standing next to her, and I whispered, "Is there somewhere I can get a tampon or sanitary napkin?" Wow. There it was. I was bold. I stated my needs. Ms. Tanaka turned, looked at me and said...

"What? I'm sorry. One more time, please."

REALLY?! 

Is this really happening? 

But oh, it gets better.

So I repeat my exact question, only slower and Ms. Tanaka says "OH! I have! Come with me!" With that, she sets of RUNNING. Down the hallway, past all of the students who are cleaning, and I have no choice but to run after her.

She races to her desk and fishes around in her purse. She pulls out a back cat-shaped purse, holds it out to me and says, "Here. I have three. Please take all of them as a present."

Wow.

THEN I realize - it is school cleaning time, which means students are cleaning all of the bathrooms in the school. So I ask Ms. Tanaka, "Aren't the students cleaning the bathrooms? What should I do?"

She quickly responds, "Don't worry! Come with me!" And she sets off running to the bathroom. The door is propped open and my students are inside cleaning. In Japanese, Ms. Tanaka quickly demands, "Is the toilet available?" The students exchange confused glances and point to the far stall (and looking back, I'm so thankful because that's the only "western toilet" in the bathroom). Ms. Tanaka quickly opens the stall door and ushers me in, closing the door behind me.

I sit down on the toilet and laugh. 

Did all of this really just happen? 

Is this really my life?

Welcome to Japan.

The comedy that is my life

My life is funny. All the time.
For instance - I accidentally went on a date with a Japanese man yesterday. How does this happen? Well, here's how I fell into it:

Some English teachers and one of our Japanese friends were hanging out around the house yesterday night, and I was hungry. I wanted garlic ramen from a ramen shop near our house. I asked around, and everyone except my Japanese friend (Kousuke) had already eaten. I asked Kousuke if he wanted ramen, and he was game. So we walked to the ramen shop and got some noodles.
While we were eating, we chatted. With my limited Japanese and his ever-improving broken English, we had a pleasant conversation. We taught each other some new words and talked about the differences between English and Japanese. Then Kousuke said something about how this was the first time he and I had eaten ramen together. He asked if there was an English word for going out together to eat ramen for the first time. I thought, "It's cute that Japanese language and culture treat 'first events' so specially, (I can't tell you the number of times I've been eagerly asked 'Hajimete?' or 'is this the first time?' - even while doing the most common things, like eating rice) but who knew there was even a special Japanese word for the first time people at ramen together?" I kindly answered that no, there was not an English word for the first time people go out to eat ramen together. However, he did not seem satisfied with my response. He proceeded, in typical Kousuke fashion, with, "For example (maybe his favorite English phrase, commonly misused), you and me go out, just us, for the first time. Is this going out? What do you call this first time going out?"

OOOooooh! The lights went on in my head. I believe you call this "a date." That's right folks, I'm now on a date. Who knew?

So I confirmed that, yes, there is a word for the first time a man and a woman go out together. This is called a date. Then my dear Kousuke smiled and in his best English said, "This is our first date. It's memorial." He cocked his head to the side and added, "But it's at a ramen shop..." By his tone, I knew that he meant, "not very classy for a first date..."

We continued chatting and slurping our noodles, and then walked home.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is the story of my inadvertent first date in Japan. 

The comedy that is my life - To be continued...