24

I definitely don't have time to write. I leave for the airport in about 30 minutes, and I've had guests in and out all morning. I planned on writing a good, sappy entry to top off this experience. But when all is said and done, I think this blog has done its duty and deserves a vacation. With that said, know that I am anxious, sad, happy, and a little impatient. When I arrive back to Rochester, maybe I can write with a bit more clarity. It's funny how countdowns seem to get lost in craziness toward their end.

37 hours...

I will land in Rochester in exactly 37 hours (I hope). I'm taking a break from my fruitless packing to vent some of my mixed emotions.

When people ask me anxiously, "You're going home tomorrow?!" I can't help but smile, even when I give a somber (and honest) response. My brain may send a signal to my mouth to tell how scared I am to start fresh or how much I will miss so-and-so, but somewhere inside my mouth is getting a mixed signal and that smile contradicts my thoughts.

On the way home from a concert tonight, one stop from Tennoji it suddenly hit me that it was my final time on JR railways. I felt heavy and a bit stupid - like I had just wasted an entire day being social and happy and forgot to be sad. To make up for it, I took pictures of almost every beloved or hated landmark between the train and my door.

I emailed Kelly to get the lowdown on customs upon re-entry. I asked a million questions, nervous I will get in trouble for having too many chopsticks or pocky. She reassured me that it was quick and painless, and she reminded me that everything is in English. At first I was relieved, then I regretted that soon I won't be able to blame my ignorance on language barrier. I will still be overwhelmed by the customs form or the gate information, even if it's technically in my own language. It's been frustrating not knowing what's going on around me or what my students are gossiping about, but it's sometimes refreshing to be allowed to tune out - exempt from understanding. I will lose that luxarious curse tomorrow.

Of course, the best news of my day comes in the form of my friend Yoshi's innocently overwhelming Starbucks marketing. United Airways serves Starbucks on their flights, so I need not worry about a thing.

Turn up the car radio...

Today, I said a lot of goodbyes, finished packing just about everything, and ate too much. But instead of making you read a few minutes of sappy, boring stories, I will spare you by giving you a short video to watch instead. I think it sums up my day better than my own words.

Dear Kelly-chan,

You had a postcard waiting for me when I arrived in Japan last year, depressed and alone. So I figured it was my turn to have a greeting waiting for you as you return to NY, no doubt feeling like you are in a foreign country as well. I hope your flight was pleasant, your jet lag minimal, and your reverse culture-shock inspiring.
I am no good at expressing gratitude or sentimental feelings in person (we both hate Japanese goodbyes). So now - an ocean apart - I want to let you know how amazing it was to share this past year with you. Often, I found myself jealous of your position - you had a great friend network, better pay, and a much better view. Other times, I found myself feeling proud - I got to know my students (because I taught on a more regular basis), my job was easy and convenient, and I experienced city life.
In the end, I reached the not so difficult conclusion: How amazing is it that two girls from tiny RWC went to Japan at the exact same time for almost the exact same reason, yet experienced completely different facets of a surprisingly diverse country? How boring would it have been to both have been in Osaka or both to have been countryside JETs?...How one dimensional! Because we were mere acquaintances at first and we were at just enough of a distance apart, we didn't rely on each other for everything (and therefore stifle our individual, independent growth). Because we taught different ages, spent time with different friends, lived in different areas, traveled to different cities, and fell in love with different aspects of Japan, we were able to learn that much more through each other. Looking back, I am so grateful I didn't live on the beach or have JET friends, and I'm glad you lived in the boonies and taught cute little kids. I feel like I have had two experiences in Japan because of you.
Japan would have been great regardless, but I thank God I had you to encourage me and visit me and challenge me - it turned a great experience into an life-altering, unforgettably amazing experience. Your upbeat attitude, objectivity, humor, insight, and eagerness to learn drove me to try to maintain the same attitude. Thank you for coming to Japan, thanks for being there for me, and thanks for the kind of person you are. I can't wait to see you again and learn about your ever continuing adventures (they're not over yet!).

Love always,

Cassie

My last rice ball

Tonight was my last trip to Kamagasaki to make onigiri. The crew was thrilled to see me - despite our wonderful communication, they thought I had left last week. As such, they were especially sentimental tonight. They even gave me umeboshi, one of my least favorite foods in the world (pickled plum). Best of all, they made a cake because they know I like sweets. When we split up at the end of the night, I was showered with hugs, hand shakes, and ogenkides...When I took my usual extra onigiri to drop off on the way home to my usual homeless neighbor, he wasn't around. I just left it on his cart. It was an extremely depressing way to end that chapter in my life, but not entirely unsatisfying. He'll get his rice tonight - a big surprise after he left an empty cart to go look for food. And maybe he'll even remember who gave it to him, the same foreigner every Wednesday night. Then again, maybe he's already forgotten me - and I will try to be okay with that.

One week

Tonight I rounded out my Japanese theater experience with a horror Bunraku performance. That's right...cute, little puppets gone mad. For all those people who have nightmares about dummies and clowns...this is not the art form for you. I literally watched an innocent bystander have his face cut off. Cotton and wooden body parts were flying everywhere. You should never mess with a samurai's heart.

Nevertheless, it was amazing and impressive. Before the show, Ikeda sensei took me backstage to meet some of the performers (the men and the puppets). She goes about 20 times a year, so she has an unofficial backstage pass. They let me hold a beautiful puppet and attempt to make her face and hands move, but I failed miserably. I learned that most performers have to begin by 15 or they have little hope of ever becoming good in their lifetime. In fact, one of the musicians tonight was around 80 and had been training since he was 9. Now, with fashion and pop stardom on everyone's mind, Bunraku is gradually disappearing because no new performers are signing on.

Afterward, we ate oden (a very traditional Japanese food...basically any food you can think of boiled in a special broth) at the most famous oden shop in Osaka (Takoume). I felt so Japanese, in fact, that when I arrived home and saw the mess of suitcases, I was jolted back to reality and remembered I will be American again in only a week...

I missed 10

Somehow, life fast-forwarded to 9 days. I was watching my countdown so carefully, I don't know what happened...

Today, I said goodbye to my very first Japanese friends. I hosted (I mean that in the lightest sense of the word...I literally just opened my door, they did the shopping, cooking, and cleaning) an udon party for last year's graduates. Eight girls came...some I hadn't seen since graduation. They gave me a Mickey&Minnie picture frame for my wedding - they are adorned in traditional Japanese wedding attire. The girls even came up with creative kanji names for me and Brian to write on the frame. Then they all signed the dress. As if that's not sweet enough, Keiko started crying as they said goodnight. Of course, I waited until they left to cry. That took a while, since they stopped to take pictures of my soon-to-be-replaced mailbox label.

I can hardly believe that my relationship (at least face-to-face) with these friends is at an end. I can't believe a year has passed. I feel like I just got here on that horribly lonely day in September.