Wanting you like rays of sunshine...

No pictures this time, sorry! The only thing that’s happened that was worthy of pictures was the school speech contest, and I wasn’t in the mental state to be photographing. However, Un Young took a lot of pictures, so I’m going to ask her to send those to me, and then I’ll post them as soon as I can.

Tuesday, July 29^th

When I posted my previous entry this morning, I still felt okay. It was just going to be an ordinary school day. Nothing special about it.

But as the day progressed, I felt an increasing sense of… unease. It’s hard to describe. You may have felt it before—it’s this sensation where you feel like there’s something unexplainably wrong with the world today, or with you, or both. Something is decidedly off. And the more aware you become of it—the sensation, not the cause, because you don’t know the cause—the more it builds and builds inside of you.

It all came to a head when I suddenly burst into tears on the subway home. Nothing bad or unusual had happened. Class with Saitou-sensei had gone fine; speech practice with Takahashi-sensei afterwards had been short and painless. Nothing had happened on the subway, either. I had just been sitting by myself, zoning out while listening to my mp3 player, when I just suddenly started crying.

When I got to the dorm, I ate dinner and did my homework quickly, then lay on my bed to give myself a chance to reflect and try to figure out what the problem is. My thoughts are a mess, but I will try to convey them as coherently as possible.

In the handbook that we received prior to our departure for Japan, there’s a section that talks about the different phases of a study abroad experience—culture shock, adjustment, return anxiety, etc. Though I’ve only read through the handbook a couple of times, one sentence from that section has stayed with me: “Upon your return, you wonder if your family and friends will recognize you because you have changed so much.”

I wonder if that will be true for me. I don’t feel like I have really changed very much as a person. I don’t mean to sound pretentious, but think I already had a pretty good idea of who I am and who I want to be, so I didn’t come here in search of that person. This is also not my first time abroad, nor my first time being away from home for so long, so those aspects of this experience haven’t fazed me. Sometimes, I’m strongly reminded of when we first moved to Germany. Of course, I was much younger then, and had my family with me, but there are a lot of parallels. I had begun to learn English about 6 months before we moved, but I still remember realizing the hard way as early as the first day of school that I did not know nearly enough to express myself. The frustration of being in a place where you don’t really speak the language very well is nothing new to me.

At the same time, something must have changed. This is not by any means an insignificant experience—I am fairly sure it is one of the most significant in my life thus far—so, by definition, something must have changed. But what?

The only answer to that question that I’ve been able to find so far is that this experience was for me an affirmation, an answer to a question I’ve been asking myself for nearly ten years. From the first time when I began to develop a serious interest in Japanese culture, I’ve wondered about this place. What’s it really like? Can I fit in? Might I be able to feel at home there? Of course, you could argue that after ten years of anticipation, the chances of me being disappointed were slim, but you must also consider that such anticipation leads to high expectations, so I did have every chance of being let down.

The Might I be able to feel at home there? question is closely tied to the question I most often ask myself, and the one I also briefly discussed here once before. It is, ironically, also one of the questions I am most frequently asked, and yet I still always have trouble deciding how to answer. “So where are you from?” I think I give a different answer every time. Sometimes I say I’m from the Netherlands, but that kind of gives people the wrong idea if I don’t mention that I currently live in America. I don’t like just saying that I’m from America, though, because I don’t feel that way—I don’t feel at home there, and I don’t consider myself an American. (I am also, technically, not one. I am not even eligible for U.S. citizenship until next year.) So then I sometimes say some variation of, “I live in America, but I’m originally from the Netherlands,” but that sounds a little pretentious and long-winded if I’m introducing myself to a stranger. Also, lately, I have the difficulty of trying to decide how to answer when people ask me, “Where in America?” Where, indeed? I feel more at home in Pittsburgh, and I currently spend more of the time there than in Houston, but overall I’ve spent more time in Texas, and that’s where my family lives. Because of this, lately, I find myself often using the very vague, “I’m kind of from all over.”

And what about now? What should I say when I go back to America and people ask me that horribly difficult question? Would it be so terribly wrong to answer “I’m from Japan”? True, I only stayed here for two months, and I technically have nothing tying me to this place other than my own personal attachments. But what do you do when you feel like you’ve found a place where you feel at home, you just don’t live there yet?

A friend of mine studied abroad in Shanghai, and it changed her life. After she came back to the U.S., she changed the “Hometown” field on her Facebook profile to “Shanghai, China”. At the time, I remember thinking it was a very pretentious thing to do because she, like me, had only been there for about 2-3 months. But now, I can understand why she did it, how she must have felt.

I don’t want to go back. I’m not saying America is a bad country. I don’t absolutely loathe it. I know I’m fortunate to have lived there, especially in terms of the top-class education I’ve received. And yet, there is a sense… The closest word to describe it would be “regret”, though that is not really an accurate description. After all, how can I regret something I had no control over? Still, I find myself wishing I could rewrite the earlier years of my life, locating myself in Japan instead. I am not angry with my parents for not bringing me here; it is not their, or anyone’s, fault. And yet there is this futile sense of frustration that I’ve spent 20 years of my life not being here.

That sense of frustration is heightened when I realize that it might easily be another couple of years before I finally can be here all the time. Not only do I not want to go back, but how can I? How do I pick up the threads of a life that I don’t want to live?

And yet, that is not entirely true either. Though I have always felt that I have nothing to look forward to if I stay in America, especially beyond college graduation, I do have some lingering attachments—not really to the places, but to the people. Though I do have a high degree of personal independence, part of me also builds my world around the people I love—my family and my friends. I suppose that is the one problem with my current life here; there is no one whom I love. I believe that the opportunity to brighten someone I love’s day is the one thing, above all else, that makes life more livable, more enjoyable, and that part of me is, at present, unfulfilled. With that in mind, I try to tell myself that going back to America is not an entirely bad thing.

Still, I dread it, and I find myself envying my classmates, most of who will stay in Japan to study for at least another year and a half. I almost wish I was living their life—almost wish I could just quit college and come here and live the same way, working part-time jobs, studying Japanese all day, every day, and just being here, in Tokyo. In the end, I do want to finish college, though. Getting my degree is at the top of the list of things I want to accomplish. But I do know that when I go back, the thought that will be constantly occupying my thoughts is, How soon can I go back to Japan? How much longer do I have to wait until I can live the life I want to live?

Since those questions as yet remain unanswered, I suppose I will have to stop here for the time being. All this introspection is not helping my melancholy mood, at any rate. Sorry for taking up everyone’s time with my rambling. I suppose this kind of entry was inevitably going to happen at some point, though. Well, hopefully it’s out of my system now, and tomorrow will be a better day.

Wednesday, July 30^th

After waking up around 7:30am as usual for breakfast, I started on a drawing. In my speech, I talk about the Dutch tradition/custom of holding an open-air market (青空市場) every week. Takahashi-sensei told me that since most people either don’t understand what that means or how to visualize it, it would be better if I accompanied that line with a visual. Since printing out a photograph large enough for everyone to see, that meant I had to draw it.

I had bought a large poster board after class yesterday, and had intended to start on the picture that night, but because of my sudden onset of melancholy, I hadn’t gotten to it. I tend to be very productive in the mornings, though, and today was no different. I had sketched out the entire picture and had started on the coloring by the time I needed to leave for school. I decided to bring the picture with me because I only have colored pencils, so I hoped to borrow the teachers’ markers to for the outlines, to make it clearer for people sitting far away. I admit it was also intended partly as an excuse to stay after school longer and hopefully get to talk to Fujimura-sensei a little more.

Class was fun, as usual. We had a grammar test, which was pretty easy, after which Fujimura-sensei went through the usual kanji and grammar lessons quickly to make sure we had lots of time to work on the two ouen performances for Kuma and I. I spent that time working on my drawing because they had needed markers for the ouen props as well, so they were conveniently there for me to use.

Even though class was already officially over, before everyone took off, Fujimura-sensei asked Kuma and I to give our speeches in front of the class, since we hadn’t done so yesterday after all. Though it was nice to practice with a larger audience, just to get more of a feel for what tomorrow will be like, I kind of wish he hadn’t asked us to do so. After I gave my speech—all from memory, with gestures, and now with the drawing as a prop as well—my class got really excited, and everyone was talking about how I’m going to win first place. This sucks! Now I feel like the pressure’s really on. Before, I was just worried about not letting Fujimura and Takahashi-sensei down, but now I’m worried about disappointing the entire class if I don’t win. Gah!

After that, I went to speech practice, but Fujimura and Takahashi-sensei said that, since they both thought I was in good shape, I only needed to recite my speech one more time, and they’d give me a few final tips, and that was it. Since I’d already used the markers, I didn’t really have an excuse to stick around, and I was actually a little disappointed, until I remembered my article for the Newspaper Club, which I’d finished and printed that morning. I had Takahashi-sensei read it and correct my mistakes, and then she had me have Fujimura-sensei read it over as well, at which point Saitou-sensei became curious and asked to read it after he finished. I had to explain about the butler café a little more because they were all interested.

But then it really was time to leave. I was actually upset that I was leaving earlier than normal. The prospect of spending my final night before the speech contest alone in the dorm just didn’t appeal to me.

I cheered myself up by going to the big suupaa near the dorm and buying more green tea ice cream, beer, and chips. I practiced my speech a couple more times and then put the finishing touches on my drawing. It’s not very good—I can’t help but think of it as very elementary-school, since there’s minimal shading and the perspective is not accurate—but I suppose it’ll fool people who aren’t artists. Besides, it’s only going to be displayed for about 10-15 seconds, so it’s not worth putting more effort into.

It’s still early, but I’m going to try to sleep. I want to be rested tomorrow. The last thing I want to have happen is to have an uncontrollable urge to yawn while I’m giving my speech.

Thursday, July 31^st

So, this was it: the long-anticipated day of the school speech contest.

It was also the first day since the beginning of the month when I actually had to be up early. The speech contest started at 9:30am, and instead of being close to the school, the auditorium they were using was in Choufu—a good ~30-minute train ride from Shinjuku. I woke up at 6:30am to get dressed and put on a little make-up, and then took off right after breakfast. I made it to Choufu shortly after 9am—a little early, but that was better on my nerves than if I would’ve been late.

Once everyone was ushered into the hall, those of us giving speeches were segregated from our classes for the rest of the event. They had separated the speeches into two sessions, before lunch and after lunch. Those giving speeches before lunch had to sit up on the stage until then, while those of us giving speeches after lunch had to sit at the front of the auditorium, away from everyone else. It was a little frustrating to be separated from everyone this way, but luckily Yana and I were both giving speeches after lunch, so we sat together for the morning half of the event.

I have to say that the speeches, overall, were much better than I’d expected. Almost everyone did have theirs memorized, and many of them used at least a few gestures. The pronunciation and accents were also pretty good, especially the Koreans’. I have to say that the most common problems were lack of energy and making awkward pauses in the middle of a sentence. Aside from that, though, the speeches were well done, even if some subjects were less interesting than others. As soon as the first 10 or so people had gone, I felt a sinking feeling when I realized I was never going to win anything, and my entire class was going to be disappointed.

The lunch break was 30 minutes long, though those of us giving speeches after had to be on stage 5 minutes before the end of the break. I quickly wolfed down the bread and juice I’d brought with me and then went back into the (now) empty auditorium to practice one more time. Then I was ushered up on stage, and they seated us in the order we were giving our speeches in.

I was 24^th out of all the speakers and about the 7^th or so person after the lunch break. It got to me quicker than I would’ve liked, but that also did mean I got it over with sooner. I also realized the true value of the ouen—you don’t spend the last minute before your speech being nervous because you’re watching your class do silly things to cheer you on. In my case, the boys hadn’t had time to make the blonde wigs after all, but they still did silly dances to the techno music I’d provided. Sang Mook had had to leave early, so at the last minute, Fujimura-sensei had been called on by the class to take his place. I was too busy laughing at his little dance to be very nervous.

I can’t honestly give specifics about what happened during my speech, because I don’t honestly remember. It’s like I blacked out. Of course, I was completely aware of what was happening while I was giving the speech, but afterwards, I couldn’t remember a single detail. I didn’t forget anything during the speech, though. I did have the written copy on the podium in front of me in case I did forget, but I didn’t wind up needing it at all.

It was over more quickly than I thought it would be, and afterwards, there was a huge surge of relief. I had done okay. Maybe not fabulous, but okay. I was content.

There were still a good 15~20 or so speeches after me, and I had to stay seated on the stage, but I was much more relaxed after I’d gone. Yana went towards the end, and she did a good job as well.

Once all the speakers were done, we were ushered off the stage. There were various musical and dance performances while the judges tallied their scores. There were also several scholarships awarded, and once of the judges gave a short speech about what he’d thought of the overall event.

Then it was time for the awards. Six different awards were given out: the ouen prize (awarded to the entire class for their ouen), the performance prize (for a speaker, not for the ouen), the student prize (for a speaker voted on by the students), the KCP prize (for a speaker voted on by the teachers), and the first, second, and third place prizes as determined by the judges’ scores.

I ended up tying with another girl for the third place prize, which I thought amazing enough considering all the other prize winners (except for a Level 1.5 student who won the performance prize because of the little skit he’d worked into his speech) were Level 4 and above. The girl I tied with is Level 5 and has the best pronunciation of all the white Japanese-speaking people I’ve ever met. They actually called her name before they called mine, so when they said that she won third place, I thought, “Okay, if she’s only third then there’s no way I’m ever going to win.” Imagine my surprise when they called my name right after hers.

All the prize-winners had to go up on stage, where we received certificates and large gift boxes from the school’s president. Then everyone else was dismissed, while we had to stick around for pictures and interviews with the other members of the Newspaper Club. The Newspaper Club members were pretty excited that one of their own had won a prize, although my answers to their questions were pretty nonsensical because I was so overwhelmed. It was a blur of congratulations, bowing, and thank-you’s.

Finally, the Newspaper Club people trickled out of the room, leaving only Un Young, Fujimura-sensei and I, as well as Ji Young, who had stuck around because she and Un Young were going home together. I asked Fujimura-sensei what we were going to do about our planned nomikai, and he, too, was very disappointed, but there wasn’t really anything that we could do since everyone else from our class had already taken off. I was a little frustrated because half the reason I’d worked so hard and done so well was because I’d wanted us to have something to celebrate, but now there was no one to celebrate with.

Takahashi-sensei came and congratulated me briefly and then disappeared again. Un Young, Ji Young and I took our leave of Fujimura-sensei and headed for the train station, but halfway there, he caught up with us and said that since he was leaving as well, we might as well all go together. We rode the train back to Shinjuku Station, and then the others talked me into taking the Marunouchi subway line to Shinjuku-sanchome station (where I catch my usual subway line back) just so we could all travel together a little longer. It was nice to have travel buddies again, and I enjoyed the extra opportunity to talk to sensei, even if I was too flustered by everything that had happened to say much of anything coherent.

It was frustrating to go straight home on an afternoon when I should’ve been celebrating. Unfortunately, I had little else to do. Everyone else had taken off, and given the big gift box I was carrying, I wasn’t really in the condition to go adventuring on my own. So, back to the dorm it was.

Once there, the first thing I did, of course, was open the box. Turns out my prize is a rice cooker. Perhaps a little weird of an award for a speech contest, but I can’t complain, because it’s very useful. I had, in fact, been thinking of buying a rice cooker just before I came to Japan, but luckily had decided to hold off. Now I don’t have to!

Other than that, I haven’t really done much of anything. I relaxed for a while, ate dinner, showered, and relaxed some more. I still haven’t started my homework, but there’s time for that in the morning. It won’t take long, anyway. I have a kanji test tomorrow, too, but I can’t get myself to care very much. Right now, the last thing I want to be doing is studying.

Fujimura-sensei told me that we still have to go out for a victory nomikai sometime, although I don’t know when that’ll happen. We were talking about maybe tomorrow, but people might already have plans. Then, of course, there’s next week, but I don’t want to have to put it off for that long. Call me impatient, but like I said, this is half the reason I did so well! Now I want to celebrate, dangit!

Friday, August 1^st

The fact that it’s August saddens me. Less than two weeks now until I leave. I’m not at all happy about the prospect.

The fact that it’s almost weekend again also doesn’t really help my mood. Yeah, it means I won’t have class and I can go exploring, but chances are good I’ll be doing it alone, and I don’t know that that’s really something to look forward to. One day of exploring by myself is fine, but I don’t want to be alone for the entire weekend. But what can I do when everyone else has already made plans, and I wasn’t invited?