2015 started off with a frenzy of exciting travels around East Asia, which were consummated by a lengthy 2 week visit to my hometown in Springfield, VA. It has been nearly a month since I have been in Yokohama-machi, thus my absence of blog posts. And to be honest, I am still so exhausted from traveling that I didn't think I could muster the brain power to write this blog post. This can partially be attributed to the sheer number of stories and pictures I have accumulated not only throughout my travels, but over the past few months as well. In fact, I am so behind in updating this blog that I'm just about to quit. But I won't because I have big news, some of which is exciting and some of which is quite scary. (And to clarify, this is not a blog post with a million beautiful pictures. You can expect that in in the next post.)
I traveled to Okinawa for 3 days, Taiwan for 4 days, Osaka for half a day, Washington D.C. for 2 weeks, and Tokyo for 3 days. Along the way I rented a car in Japanese, walked through an ice-cold river to see the most magnificent waterfalls I have yet witnessed, went to an incredible aquarium with whale sharks and manta rays, walked through a gorge notorious for landslides, stayed in a hostel with bed bugs, spent Christmas at a Taiwanese night market, and, most memorably, spent a week with some of the coolest people I have ever met.
After Okinawa and Taiwan I went to Osaka by myself and stayed in a hostel so clean, quaint, and just plain awesome that I plan on returning just to stay there again. One 6 hour layover, 3 Japanese meals, and a manicure later, I boarded my 12.5 hour flight to DC to find one of my best friends waiting for me on the other side. The subsequent 9 days were a blur of quality family time, more lunches and dinners with friends and former teachers than I can count on one hand, soccer, a zombie chase, and many, MANY American movies. I didn't expect it to be so jam-packed with events. I didn't expect it to be so fun. And I certainly did not expect to make it from Okinawa to DC without a hitch. But, of course, life isn't a series of continuously happy events. Just when you were probably beginning to think I was going to brag this whole post!
Leaving DC was sad in some ways, but I was excited to go back to Japan and spend some time in Tokyo with my aunt and grandmother. I had not seen my aunt in a few years and my grandmother is quite old, 92 years old. Her longevity is certainly a blessing (for her AND for increasing my odds of longevity!), but she has always lived on the other side of the world from me. As you can imagine, joining the JET Program was exciting in large part because I would be closer to her. Aomori is a long cry from Tokyo (a 5 hour bullet train ride and 3 hour ride on local trains), but it's much closer than DC.
In any event, I received a warm welcome from my aunt and my grandmother and I was so excited to eat Japanese food and drink Japanese beer again. My grandmother finished dinner early, so she took to writing postcards to friends while my aunt and I continued to chat. I remember looking at her handwriting. My aunt commented on how beautiful her calligraphy was, and I, too, was impressed despite my lack of knowledge concerning Japanese calligraphy. All of a sudden I heard something drop on the ground. Her pen had fallen a few feet from her chair, but she didn't lean down to pick it up. Instead she let out a big yawn and her eyelids were drooping. "Is she okay?" I wondered aloud. "I think she's just tired," my aunt replied. I agreed, "Yes, she looks quite tired." I placed her pen on the table.
After that, I don't clearly remember the sequence of events. Some parts are very vivid, and other parts I can't quite remember. I will try my best to recall everything:
I saw her pen drop in her lap again. I went to pick it up, but saw her right hand moving back and forth to pick it up. Up and down, up and down. My eyes went to her white apron, there were pen marks on it. That's the moment I knew something was wrong. "I think something is wrong," I think I said.
It looked like a robot's arm that was malfunctioning. I Iooked at her eyes, they were almost closed.
At that moment everything moved SO fast. My aunt was with her and I was by the telephone. Wait, that doesn't make sense, I'm not fluent. We switched places. My aunt was dialing numbers in the background and I was holding my grandmother, who was still sitting in her kitchen chair. I kept rubbing her back and helping her sit up. Her body was remarkably heavy for such a small lady. She kept leaning forward, as if she wanted to stand up. Or maybe she lost control of her body and was about to collapse. That seemed more likely. She tried speaking, but couldn't. Her mouth was twisted up and some saliva wet her lips. She moaned a little, but no words came out.
Her breathing was sporadic--huffing and puffing, then short, shallow breaths. I looked up at my aunt. I was worried. Something was severely wrong here. "I think you should call the ambulance. Really. I think you should call them now."
I kept rubbing my grandmother's back. But her body pressed forward so intently that I nearly thought I would drop her. At that moment, a deep fear washed over me. My grandmother is dying. She will die in my arms.
I broke into uncontrollable sobs, for a good 20 seconds and then realized that my poor grandmother, who was experiencing something terrible and could not speak, was at the mercy of her granddaughter's unstable hands and panicked sobs. I saw my aunt look up at me, startled. I tried pulling it together. Now was not the time to act like a child.
Eventually the ambulance came and took her away. My other aunt, who is her primary caretaker, went with her to the hospital while the former aunt and I stayed at home and waited to hear news, which we received in bits throughout the night. I was exhausted. From traveling, from the sudden turn of events. I slept for a very long time.
The next morning, Tokyo welcomed us with sunny, happy arms. And so did my grandmother. Somehow, miraculously, she had recovered overnight after receiving medication. She could speak again in both Japanese and English. It was an incredible convalescence, and a lucky one according to the doctor. Next time the consequences will almost certainly be more severe.
So you can understand how I was not in a great state of mind upon leaving Tokyo. This was exacerbated by a 11 hours of riding 2 buses and 3 hours of waiting for them. Then I walked a mere 3/4 of a mile to my car, which wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't dragging my suitcase over a foot of ice and snow in tennis shoes with no friction. A 2 hour car ride later, I arrived to my town of Yokohama, physically and emotionally exhausted.
I had returned from a whirlwind of a trip to a lonely, albeit lovely, town. And with all that time and no one to talk to, I began feeling sorry for myself. I was supposed to make a big decision two days after returning: whether or not to stay in Japan another year. During those two days, signing the contract seemed equivalent to consigning myself to isolation; isolation from my ill grandmother, isolation from my friends and family in DC, isolation even from everyone else in my prefecture. All alone. Do you want that, Emily? Until August 2016? If so, sign here.
To be honest, I became angry. I couldn't sleep the past two nights. Okay fine, the 14 hour time difference from DC may have been the primary cause of that. But when I woke up at 2am in my cold, empty house, I thought about that contract. Why had I decided to stay until 2016 again? Control-freak Emi had decided a LONG time ago to stay in Japan for 2 years, but I couldn't understand why. Save money, avoid unemployment, learn Japanese, blah, blah. But what about the part where I was lonely and unhappy? Did I always feel that way, since I came here? Why are all of my friends and family encouraging me to stay another year!! I DON'T WANT TO. STOP TELLING ME TO. IT'S NOT YOUR LIFE. YOU guys are not the ones waking up to an empty house every morning and going to sleep in an empty house. YOU guys don't have to travel an hour and a half to see the nearest English-speaking people. YOU'RE not living in the middle of nowhere, trapped on a peninsula of ice and snow.
I don't even know who I was directing my resentment toward. I was just annoyed and angry.
But this is why control-freak Emi can be great: she keeps impulsive Emi from making decisions she will regret later. Because in 10 years, 2 years, even 2 months after August 2015 I would regret not living in Yokohama for more than 12 months. It just isn't enough time. I have spent 21 years of my life in America, but what about the other half of me? The Japanese half? I need to give myself more time to indulge in the other culture that makes up who I am. After all, all of my American friends call me "Asian." I might as well learn about the Asian, the Japanese, side of me if I'm going to be called that. On a less cynical note, I have loved living in Japan and I am lucky enough to be reminded that by my friends and family.
So here is my big news, which many of you may have predicted from the beginning: I am staying in Japan until August 2016. Maybe you all just didn't know how much inner turmoil I experienced before signing it. So here is to a great 2015. And a very Japanese and adventurous 2016 to follow.
I traveled to Okinawa for 3 days, Taiwan for 4 days, Osaka for half a day, Washington D.C. for 2 weeks, and Tokyo for 3 days. Along the way I rented a car in Japanese, walked through an ice-cold river to see the most magnificent waterfalls I have yet witnessed, went to an incredible aquarium with whale sharks and manta rays, walked through a gorge notorious for landslides, stayed in a hostel with bed bugs, spent Christmas at a Taiwanese night market, and, most memorably, spent a week with some of the coolest people I have ever met.
After Okinawa and Taiwan I went to Osaka by myself and stayed in a hostel so clean, quaint, and just plain awesome that I plan on returning just to stay there again. One 6 hour layover, 3 Japanese meals, and a manicure later, I boarded my 12.5 hour flight to DC to find one of my best friends waiting for me on the other side. The subsequent 9 days were a blur of quality family time, more lunches and dinners with friends and former teachers than I can count on one hand, soccer, a zombie chase, and many, MANY American movies. I didn't expect it to be so jam-packed with events. I didn't expect it to be so fun. And I certainly did not expect to make it from Okinawa to DC without a hitch. But, of course, life isn't a series of continuously happy events. Just when you were probably beginning to think I was going to brag this whole post!
Leaving DC was sad in some ways, but I was excited to go back to Japan and spend some time in Tokyo with my aunt and grandmother. I had not seen my aunt in a few years and my grandmother is quite old, 92 years old. Her longevity is certainly a blessing (for her AND for increasing my odds of longevity!), but she has always lived on the other side of the world from me. As you can imagine, joining the JET Program was exciting in large part because I would be closer to her. Aomori is a long cry from Tokyo (a 5 hour bullet train ride and 3 hour ride on local trains), but it's much closer than DC.
In any event, I received a warm welcome from my aunt and my grandmother and I was so excited to eat Japanese food and drink Japanese beer again. My grandmother finished dinner early, so she took to writing postcards to friends while my aunt and I continued to chat. I remember looking at her handwriting. My aunt commented on how beautiful her calligraphy was, and I, too, was impressed despite my lack of knowledge concerning Japanese calligraphy. All of a sudden I heard something drop on the ground. Her pen had fallen a few feet from her chair, but she didn't lean down to pick it up. Instead she let out a big yawn and her eyelids were drooping. "Is she okay?" I wondered aloud. "I think she's just tired," my aunt replied. I agreed, "Yes, she looks quite tired." I placed her pen on the table.
After that, I don't clearly remember the sequence of events. Some parts are very vivid, and other parts I can't quite remember. I will try my best to recall everything:
I saw her pen drop in her lap again. I went to pick it up, but saw her right hand moving back and forth to pick it up. Up and down, up and down. My eyes went to her white apron, there were pen marks on it. That's the moment I knew something was wrong. "I think something is wrong," I think I said.
It looked like a robot's arm that was malfunctioning. I Iooked at her eyes, they were almost closed.
At that moment everything moved SO fast. My aunt was with her and I was by the telephone. Wait, that doesn't make sense, I'm not fluent. We switched places. My aunt was dialing numbers in the background and I was holding my grandmother, who was still sitting in her kitchen chair. I kept rubbing her back and helping her sit up. Her body was remarkably heavy for such a small lady. She kept leaning forward, as if she wanted to stand up. Or maybe she lost control of her body and was about to collapse. That seemed more likely. She tried speaking, but couldn't. Her mouth was twisted up and some saliva wet her lips. She moaned a little, but no words came out.
Her breathing was sporadic--huffing and puffing, then short, shallow breaths. I looked up at my aunt. I was worried. Something was severely wrong here. "I think you should call the ambulance. Really. I think you should call them now."
I kept rubbing my grandmother's back. But her body pressed forward so intently that I nearly thought I would drop her. At that moment, a deep fear washed over me. My grandmother is dying. She will die in my arms.
I broke into uncontrollable sobs, for a good 20 seconds and then realized that my poor grandmother, who was experiencing something terrible and could not speak, was at the mercy of her granddaughter's unstable hands and panicked sobs. I saw my aunt look up at me, startled. I tried pulling it together. Now was not the time to act like a child.
Eventually the ambulance came and took her away. My other aunt, who is her primary caretaker, went with her to the hospital while the former aunt and I stayed at home and waited to hear news, which we received in bits throughout the night. I was exhausted. From traveling, from the sudden turn of events. I slept for a very long time.
The next morning, Tokyo welcomed us with sunny, happy arms. And so did my grandmother. Somehow, miraculously, she had recovered overnight after receiving medication. She could speak again in both Japanese and English. It was an incredible convalescence, and a lucky one according to the doctor. Next time the consequences will almost certainly be more severe.
So you can understand how I was not in a great state of mind upon leaving Tokyo. This was exacerbated by a 11 hours of riding 2 buses and 3 hours of waiting for them. Then I walked a mere 3/4 of a mile to my car, which wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't dragging my suitcase over a foot of ice and snow in tennis shoes with no friction. A 2 hour car ride later, I arrived to my town of Yokohama, physically and emotionally exhausted.
I had returned from a whirlwind of a trip to a lonely, albeit lovely, town. And with all that time and no one to talk to, I began feeling sorry for myself. I was supposed to make a big decision two days after returning: whether or not to stay in Japan another year. During those two days, signing the contract seemed equivalent to consigning myself to isolation; isolation from my ill grandmother, isolation from my friends and family in DC, isolation even from everyone else in my prefecture. All alone. Do you want that, Emily? Until August 2016? If so, sign here.
To be honest, I became angry. I couldn't sleep the past two nights. Okay fine, the 14 hour time difference from DC may have been the primary cause of that. But when I woke up at 2am in my cold, empty house, I thought about that contract. Why had I decided to stay until 2016 again? Control-freak Emi had decided a LONG time ago to stay in Japan for 2 years, but I couldn't understand why. Save money, avoid unemployment, learn Japanese, blah, blah. But what about the part where I was lonely and unhappy? Did I always feel that way, since I came here? Why are all of my friends and family encouraging me to stay another year!! I DON'T WANT TO. STOP TELLING ME TO. IT'S NOT YOUR LIFE. YOU guys are not the ones waking up to an empty house every morning and going to sleep in an empty house. YOU guys don't have to travel an hour and a half to see the nearest English-speaking people. YOU'RE not living in the middle of nowhere, trapped on a peninsula of ice and snow.
I don't even know who I was directing my resentment toward. I was just annoyed and angry.
But this is why control-freak Emi can be great: she keeps impulsive Emi from making decisions she will regret later. Because in 10 years, 2 years, even 2 months after August 2015 I would regret not living in Yokohama for more than 12 months. It just isn't enough time. I have spent 21 years of my life in America, but what about the other half of me? The Japanese half? I need to give myself more time to indulge in the other culture that makes up who I am. After all, all of my American friends call me "Asian." I might as well learn about the Asian, the Japanese, side of me if I'm going to be called that. On a less cynical note, I have loved living in Japan and I am lucky enough to be reminded that by my friends and family.
So here is my big news, which many of you may have predicted from the beginning: I am staying in Japan until August 2016. Maybe you all just didn't know how much inner turmoil I experienced before signing it. So here is to a great 2015. And a very Japanese and adventurous 2016 to follow.