i did it

Well, I've done it. I signed the paperwork last week and I'm staying for another year. And every day since that fateful day has made me wish I hadn't. Not that I really have any other options anyway, but still it would make me feel better to know that I could just tell Japan I'm sick of it and leave. It's really not that bad, and I know it'll be at least a little better in a few months when I finally get a car. But a lot of things are getting to me. I'm quite adaptable, but I have to be careful of what I allow myself to adapt to. I refuse to adapt to the way I'm treated here; I will not succumb to "slave-girl syndrome." But being treated like you're lowly, invisible, and not worth as much as everyone else can get you to act that way though. There are some things I just love about Japan and life here, but right now I'm in "get me out of here" mode; which is normal at this stage of the moving process, in my experience anyway. Christmas can't some soon enough-36 days...

I wrote this one day when my class didn't show up...

I love flags. They evoke deep emotions, stir up memories of things sometimes long forgotten, and serve as a comforting reminder of where I’ve been while whispering grand stories about where I still may go. In my English room here in Japan there are flags draped from the ceiling across two walls; I find it very welcoming to be greeted by them every morning. They can be especially consoling when things aren’t going so well—when the homeroom teacher brings the students to class 20 minutes late and has no plan; when my classes are cancelled and nobody tells me; when the homeroom teacher sends her students to my class but doesn’t come herself until 15 minutes after class should have started, even though she knows it’s illegal for me to have class without a Japanese teacher there. In such times I can find solace by merely looking to my left where the Turkish flag hangs, remembering other times when I had no idea what was going on, recalling colorful memories of scarves and markets and music and lamb and exploring ancient ruins. Then I see the Swiss flag, representing a land like a fairytale with wonderful chocolate and cheese and fat cows with golden bells; and the US, with my family and Halloween and thanksgiving and peanut butter and diversity; Germany with bread and gorgeous mountains and Christmas like nowhere else in the world; Greece with ancient beauty and mystery and incredible food; the UK with rugged beauty and some of the dearest people in the world; and finally, directly in front of me as I stand in the middle of the room, are my two most newly discovered countries—Malaysia and Singapore. I can’t help but smile when I look up during class and see those two hanging there almost smiling back at me, bringing memories of wonderful food, great people, and good times:

Unfortunately all my countries aren't represented in the English room; but there are also many flags representing countries I haven't yet discovered, like Thailand, Cambodia, India, and Korea, which seem like silent cheerleaders telling me to do my best and remember that with the next paycheck I'll be one step closer to another new adventure (and one step closer to getting rid of good ole' Sallie Mae).