May 2004

I Don't Think I'm Turning Japanese
We Are Five

The results of a deep, introspective analysis is amazing, to say the least. The most recent years of my life have at times been incredibly static, but nonetheless unreltentingly dynamic. The old adage is true: some things never change. But, some things do, of course.

One huge change for me has been my temporary move to Japan for "work". I was stuck in an unfulfilling cycle of sexing up naive Midwest chicks visiting the casinos of the French Riviera and then dropping them like old socks. Sure, their corn-fed ways were hot and they had money to spare; but it left me empty inside.

I sought new employment, and my search led me to the shores of the island named Honshu, the largest island in the Japanese archipelago. The past year has undoubtedly one of the more confusing, yet often productive, years of my life. It's like the Brood X of destiny is about to hatch after a long hiatus in my psyche.

I'm not sure where this transplant will lead me, and I certainly didn't come here with preconceived notions; I was after a job that happened to be in a part of the world I had never before experienced or visited. My co-workers often ask me if I like it here, and if things are going well. I always answer them with a vague "so far, so good", because, as trite a cliche as it is, that's how I feel. It's not a terrible experience by any means, but I'm not really infatuated with the prospect of spending the rest of my young adulthood here.

I certainly don't wish to become a "lifer", many of whom I work with and would not necessarily be considered stable back home. I also live with many of these people in my apratment complex/dorm. This dorm has a name, which I have mentioned previously: Menopause Manor. It's kind of sad, really, but it's still a rather humorous, and accurate, moniker. It's like common sense and basic societal rules are bent here. Of course, where I work has its own set of rules, really. This has proven to be a good thing, so far. Besides, I'm not really ready to leave yet; I still have another year on my contract.

This experience has shown me new topics about which to write. Never before would I have considered composing haiku based on the suspect menu of an Irish pub in Hachioji, a suburb of Tokyo. Only here would I have a chance to take a "field trip" to camp at one of the lakes near the base of Mt. Fuji. Back home I probably wouldn't have thought of collecting ceramic chopstick rests.

In retrospect, I can't really come to a definitive conclusion about this place. I've seen cool stuff. I've learned a little Japanese. I go to the same ATM to withdraw either yen or dollars. I've begun dreaming in Spanish again (this is my default foreign-language dream mode). I've sampled some awesome music and have heard some interesting live bands at local bars. But, it's just not home. Yet?