chameleon

Sometimes just being alive is difficult. When every sight, smell, sound, and taste drowns you in memories of all the yesterdays, all the other worlds, it can be almost impossible to keep your head above water. As a TCK, I think of myself as a chameleon of sorts...a broken chameleon. An un-broken chameleon sits on a green leaf and turns green. But I sit on a green leaf and turn just green enough to semi-blend but unmistakably stand out. Here I am again in the states, as out of place as ever. Cultural adjustment is extra interesting this time. I'm overwhelmed by all the English everywhere. Suddenly I'm expected to actually talk, so I'm tripping over my tongue half the time. I'm self-conscious when eating in public because table manners are quite different. I have to really concentrate when driving so that I stay on the American side of the road; I didn't drive much in the states and I got my first car in Japan, so Japanese-style driving is the default mode in my head. I miss my kids. A lot. I'm exhausted at the end of every day just from the effort of adjusting. I wish that somewhere outside myself my worlds would collide.

remembering

I'm leaving in a week, so naturally I'm in a very reflective mood. What a couple of years its been. I feel like I've grown quite a bit, and at the same time, failed in many ways. One thing I regret is expecting. I expected the AET group to be like military dependents; I expected the group to be diverse, welcoming, and world-savvy in the same way as military dependents are. And because that wasn't the case things were a bit difficult. For the first six months or so, I tried to be part of the group, tried to fit in, to be involved. It was a difficult six months. It seemed like everyone pretty much knew everyone else and I didn't know anyone. Everyone was making plans with everyone else and I wasn't a part of it. Eventually I got the feeling that I was more of a bother to the group than anything else, so I stopped trying and kept to myself. The most blatantly obvious example of my bothersome-ness to the group was at this past year's welcome party for the new AETs. I told people that I would be a few minutes late; when I got there, everyone acted like they were surprised I was there (even though I had pre-paid and talked to people about it) and so hadn't saved me a seat. So they put me at a table by myself in the corner with my back to everyone. And when I speak it tends to be taken the wrong way or I get that glazed-over eyes look. It's been a silent two years. I don't have any bad feelings toward anyone here; that's just the way it is. My life experience is rather drastically different from theirs so I suppose such things should have been expected. Some of the really rewarding relationships were with people that don't speak my language- my kids. My 6th grade girls and I have inside jokes despite the language barrier. I'll really miss all my "monkeys," as they call themselves. So many good times, so many learning experiences. I look back at these two years and smile, refusing to forget the bad or the good and learning from both. Japan...goodbye, my friend. さいよなら。

stuff and things

One month is all I have left here. I'm torn about moving of course, like I always am. I'm convinced it's the right thing though, so that makes it a little easier.

In my perspective, Japan will always be a little bit bizarre. It's interesting the things I've gotten used to that I once thought were really odd. Like:

• sweeping the dirt/grass. I still think it's odd, but I really like doing it, it's quite relaxing actually.
• the nearly constant soundtrack that plays throughout the day at work. It'll feel weird not having music to eat, clean, and walk down the hallway to.
• masks. I hate wearing them myself but I often have the urge to give them to anyone who happens to cough or sneeze near me.

And then there are the things that I will never get used to. Like:

• phone noises. Just the other day I was in the teacher's room working on stuff, and I heard strange noises in the back of the room. I looked, thinking that we had a new handicapped student that I hadn't met. But nope. It was a co-worker on the phone.
• certain clothing choices. I was in the teacher's room really absorbed by the work I was doing, when a flash of pink distracted me. I looked up, and one of my co-workers was running around with a bright pink apron on and a bright yellow bandana on her head. No idea what that was about.
• men and very feminine pink. I saw an old man riding a pink bike a few days ago. Yesterday there was guy running past the school in a bright pink (like 80's bright) jogging suit. I've seen a man wearing a rather masculine hardcore biker outfit walking a chiuaua that was wearing a bright pink sweater.

I'm sure there are other things and I'll post them if I think of them. That's all for now folks!

scattered

I can't seem to keep my mind focused these days; there's so much that I should be doing that I can't seem to do anything at all. Christmas was great, of course, and full of many "random" events that weren't actually random at all. January was good. This past Friday was kind of the best day ever because I got to cross another thing off my list: after 14 years of being a fan, on Friday night I was finally able to go to a Backstreet Boys concert, and it was...well I don't really know how to describe how much fun I had; I'll always love BSB. And now the first week of February is gone, leaving me with less than 2 months here. It's as official as it can get at this point. I've got the plane ticket and I've started packing. Why does it always feel so weird...

And why do people settle for lives they don't want? Why do people have dreams but trade them in for the standardized life the world sells us? Why do people look at me like I'm insane when I tell them I'd like to go learn about the gypsies in Romania, and be a sailor on a tall ship for at least a few months, that I'd like to fly a hot air balloon and go on a completely un-planned-out journey? Is it because of my gypsy-like childhood that I see the

world in vivid color, that I know there's too much out there to waste my life in a cubicle? Not that everyone in a cubicle is wasting their lives; I know that's not true. But it would be true for me. There's just....so much more out there....if I could just figure it out....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1wwXfAFQoh8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fn0lhsXHEhc

I love Christmas!

It's Christmas time!!! My 4th graders had their special English program this past Friday, which was really great. Proud of those crazy kids. It's been awhile since I've gotten an internet translated English note, so imagine my joy at reading this note I found on my desk about what I should do to prepare for the program:

"Please prepare the preparation thing for the self introduction as shown in the photograph etc.

I hope if there is a thing that it can know Christmas of the home country (photograph etc.). It is excellent on the introduction of an easy song and the dance.

This staff of the school will record the appearance in the photograph, and permit, please when you exchange it.

Please eat the school lunch with the child. Please inform me if there is something that it is not possible to eat for reasons of on the religion and the body."

So difficult to hold in the laughter whilst reading this to myself in the teachers room. Oh Japan, I'll miss you when I'm gone. Here's my "christmas card" for the year. I took the pic in my English room, and yea I made that fireplace :). Oh and please excuse the sloppy handwriting...

Merry Christmas!!

priceless

Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the world. Last year there were 32,249 suicides. In 2009, from January to September there have been 24,846. It breaks my heart. These are all people that are dearly loved, but they don't know it.

Why? Why do we forget so easily what we knew so well as children? Then, we knew fun as an essential part of everyday life. Then, we knew how to love freely. Then, we knew we were precious. And then, everyone else knew we were precious too. But somewhere between the disappearance of chubby cheeks and the appearance of cheekbones, we forget. Why is that everyone accepts babies as precious things deserving of love, but not adults?

As children, everyone knows it; but then we grow up and become disillusioned. Please, don't forget! I think of my 700+ kids, from my chubby 4 year olds to my grown up 6th graders and I pray they won't forget or become a statistic. We're all priceless. Everyone.

The Identity Question

Living in Japan this past year and a half has been rather difficult for me. There is much that I love here but I must be honest; it's been some of the roughest times of my life. And it all revolves around the identity question I think. I suppose most people go through this sort of thing in their teenage years. But for me, since I have no roots and I've moved so often, I'm nearly constantly going through an identity crisis it seems. I thought I had worked through it a bit by this point, but then I took a test. The test is called the Intercultural Development Inventory and it measures whether you're in the unresolved, in transition, or resolved states of many different kinds of cultural sensitivities. I'll only mention my most interesting result- my encapsulated marginality score. I scored really low, only about half-way through the unresolved stage. An explanation:

"Issues in Encapsulated Marginality indicate that you are struggling with how to integrate your intercultural abilities with your identity. You may be asking yourself, "Now that I can shift my cultural perspective and behavior whenever I want, who am I anyway?" You are probably feeling some alienation from all cultures you know about, including your own. For instance:

• As a traditional-age or returning-adult student, you may have trouble making decisions about what to study, since everything seems equally interesting and important to one of the many careers that you are considering.
• In business situations, you may find yourself feeling separate from your co-workers and unable to identify with either the corporate culture or any of the national/ethnic cultures of which you may be a part."

That's pretty spot on. I've never really fit into any ethnic/national group and I've always known that I can't. I know full well I'll never quite belong on earth. Although it can be quite frustrating, I love my life and I wouldn't change the past. But I must admit, sometimes, hearing stories from those people who never left their own backyard, who knew everyone in their neighborhood, who were never seduced by the call of the jet engine or the allure of a train speeding around the bend...sometimes, I hear their stories and an unexpected pang of envy creeps in. Oh how blissful it must be not to wonder! What elation there must be upon seeing an untrodden path in the forest and not feeling obligated by the very blood in your veins to discover its destination! How marvelous it must feel to hear about mysterious far-off places and yet be content in a cubicle 9 to 5! Ah, but alas; that is not me. It seems I'll remain a wandering gypsy til my dying day.