Memoirs of a sensei, part two

ACROSS THE WORLD
Memoirs of a sensei
(Excerpts from my journal entries dated July 1997 on the tenth anniversary of my first month in Japan. More excerpts to come.)


TWO: The Journals of July

July 3. I feel sick to my stomach today. I can't get home out of my mind. Everyone thinks I'm being so brave, but really I'm so frightened! Before I came here I had no doubts that this was something I need to do in my life. Now I'm not sure I'll even survive.

I miss my family. I miss my friends. I can sense the distance already. Not just geographically, emotionally too. The pictures I've put up on my wall make me cry. This week has been terribly lonely with C, who I talked with an average of 5 times per day the six months prior to leaving home. This is actually the first time I've let myself think about it since I arrived here. I've been shutting off my emotions so that I could absorb as much as humanly possible this past week. The person training me (and leaving next week) asks if she's telling me too much and I can't say yes because that would make me vulnerable and my guard would come down and I'd lose it. So I shake my head and keep trying to take it all in. And I continue to put on a veneer of sanity despite the fact that I'm hurling on the inside. I thought I had learned how to be vulnerable, but maybe it'll take more than a week.

July 5. The rains have come and washed some of my sadness and inhibitions away. Today I was laughing out loud as I learned how to ride a bicycle through a downpour (yes, holding an umbrella which really ends up being useless as you roll through the puddles).

I met many excellent people yesterday, but I can tell they won't understand me very well. We have such different backgrounds. I'm starting to censor myself already.

July 10. I have never felt so sad and lonely. My brother told me, just after I arrived (he met me at the airport and came to visit me the next day ...he's going back to Canada next week) that one thing he's learned by living here (for 4 years) is how to accept loneliness. That it isn't necessarily an emotion to be avoided. That it's important to learn how to embrace it.

Great. I can hardly wait.

Today marks the two week anniversary of when I left home. Exactly two weeks ago (right now it's Wednesday evening at home), all my friends in the near vicinity were gathered to say goodbye. I felt so special, so loved. My faith in the sanctity of friendship was heightened. I was so excited about this adventure, felt like I was sitting on cloud nine (to use a cliche). Now I'm sitting on a futon in my bathrobe, dissolved in tears.

The rain is beginning to bother me. It doesn't seem to stop --- EVER. It's been raining all week. Where does it all come from? Where is it kept so that it all comes down at once like this, like a tsunami from the sky?

July 13.
I'm watching the moon to the tune of the crickets and locusts. It's a brilliant orange half-moon with the edge fringed just enough to make it look soft, but strong. Today was beautiful. The rain stopped just in time to save me from insanity. It hasn't stopped for good but at least it took a coffee break.

The moon is sinking below the houses now. Soon it'll be shining at home. Part of me wants to go with it, but part of me is slowly gaining confidence in this strange and challenging place.

July 19. When I wake up in the morning I can usually tell if it's going to be a homesick day or not. Today I knew as soon as my feet hit the tatami. Weekends are so quiet. Too many consecutive hours of silence is quite a challenge when I'm feeling out of my element (which is definitely how I'm feeling). That IS what I wanted for this year of my life though...to be out of my element after spending 23 years IN it. I'm discovering the depth of my innocence and naivete because the "gaijin" (ex-pat) lifestyle is so different from what I'm used to at home.

I got a package from my mom! As it turns out I even get weepy just listening to certain CD's. What a sap I am. I'm smiling, laughing and crying all at the same time - listening to the disc that C gave me as a goodbye gift. Remembering the two of us bopping around the store to track #3. Laughter through tears.

July 21. I think I've figured out my addiction to the moon. I think it's my symbol of God in this place. Lately I've been talking to it, pondering it, missing it on the nights that it rises too late for me to see, or when it's hiding behind the clouds, but knowing all the time that it's there.

July 25. As tired as I am, I have many thoughts floating around this head of mine tonight. Interestingly enough, I always get introspective after spending an evening at the pub -- and I don't think it has anything to do with the alcohol!! As always, the moon is supportive. I look at it tonight and it's a half moon, and I realize that's about as much as most of the people here are ever going to know about me – unless I choose to let them know more. I guess I'll never stop missing those friends that I have back home who already know me so well, and who I feel so loved by. They'll never be replaced. But I need to start making some friends here or else I'll have to get very comfortable with loneliness, very soon. And I'm not ready for that! Not yet, anyway....