And, just like that, we depart Japan.
I wasn’t quite sure how to write a proper goodbye to a country that has changed our perspective on so many things (efficiency, kindness, quietness, shortness, timeliness, Ferris wheels, poop, toilets, festivity, cuteness, and so much more). We’ve gained a lot, we’ve given some, and so in my best and begrudging effort to say goodbye, here’s a random smattering of some of the gives, gets, and last weeks’ stories from our two months in 日本.
Mitsuko’s Hugs
Hugging--it's not a thing in Japan. And we have found that at times, when given the opportunity (or when given liquid courage) the Japanese are down for a hug. In fact, if you watch Queer Eye in Japan (the latest season) the first Japanese woman who is transformed starts hugging her friend and it turns into a tear-worthy TV moment.
One night in Tokyo our plans were foiled when Commune 2nd, a hip, outdoor bohemian market, was closed for construction. Instead, we landed in a tiny tiny bar with a woman who has a big big heart.
Mitsuko loved hugging so much that I actually lost count of how many departure hugs we received.
It’s not that hugs mean more coming from the Japanese, but it’s almost like hearing, “I love you,” for the first time. It’s vulnerable, perhaps awkward, and shared only in moments of real connection.
Thanks, Mitsuko, for holding us close. It was wonderful.
Christmas:
I love Christmas and I always have. Growing up as one of five kids, it was always a magical and energetic time in my household--full of horseplay, great food, and extended time playing games and visiting with family. I’ve never spent a Christmas away from someone I’m related to, so this year will be a first for me. I was afraid of missing the Christmas cheer starting our trip to Asia, but if the Japanese do anything, they do it well.
At some point along the line, the non-Christian country of Japan adopted Christmas and damnit, it’s beautiful.
There is a whole long city street dedicated to the festive feeling of Christmas.
There are decorations in every location.
And, the most wonderfully executed Weinachtsmarkt I’ve seen (and I’ve been to the one in Berlin). Carol singers, hot spiced wine, little boys in Santa costumes, temperatures in the 60s... just unreal.
Some Final Fun
In our last couple of weeks in Japan, we tried our hardest to live it up as much as possible. Here are a few memories worth sharing:
That time we stretched out in a Raku Raku box (made for four people, sat in luxuriously by two) at the November Grand Sumo Tournament.
That time we ate--among other things--a (still moving) freshly prepared mackerel, tiny squid, snail intestine (yep), and crab brain (only to later find out it was not only crab brain but a mix of all crab internal organs) in one sitting.
That time we rode our rented bikes around one of Fukuoka’s (very hilly) islands.
That time we took a beach vacation to Okinawa and dove, snorkeled, and taught our stand-up paddleboard instructor how to do yoga poses on the board while he taught us how to jump and land. (P.S. Stay away from America Village in Okinawa, it’s basically like a suburb lost (won?) a contest for worst suburb in America and was relocated here.)
That time we learned about Japanese aviation dangers such as throwing stars and samurai umbrellas. (Note, handguns are not listed as one of the prohibited carryon items because, well, duh.)
It was a fast last ten days and we squeezed in all we could. But it was hard to say goodbye.
And maybe even more difficult in the days since has been trying to remove some of the wonderful influence of Japanese culture from our habits so we’re not coming across as culturally insensitive in other places we visit.
I grew up in Wisconsin. We love things like the long goodbye, the hanging preposition, and the tough-to-define, “Ope.” In case you hadn’t realized it, you’re currently in the middle of a long goodbye. And while I’ve tried removing most vestiges of that hanging preposition, ope remains.
If you’re not familiar with the ope, you’ll find its use-case somewhere between an oops and sorry, used to express mild surprise and sometimes contrition for an accidental unpleasant encounter. Some examples that have me saying, “Ope”:
But something odd has happened here in Japan. The Japanese equivalent loosely translates to, “Excuse me,” in English and so we’ve grown accustomed to saying, “Sumimasen,” in all accidental bumping into cases. Well, at least Heather has.
I, on the other hand now say (with no choice or control in the matter), “Ope, sumimasen.”
Unfortunately, none of that makes sense where we are going, and I'll need to adjust or end up in an endless loop of "Ope, sumimasen," as I seek to apologize for the original offense and then all subsequent confusion.
Maybe it’s my Wisconsin or maybe it’s my sentimentality, but I’ve loved saying, "Ope, sumimasen." One, because it elicits a knowing and adorable giggle from Heather. Two, because it has me feeling not only like a part of things, but like I’ve made it my own too. Like hugging Mitsuko, or teaching yoga boarding to our SUP instructor.
It’s so hard to say goodbye.
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