Discombobulated

For the first time in a long time, I woke up in the middle of the night, and for a few sleepy seconds, I had absolutely no idea where I was. After my panic subsided, I realized I was in my apartment, you know, the one I’d been living in for over a year. 

If you’ve been following my life lately, you’d know I went back home to Vancouver for the holidays. This moment of confusion was during my first night back in Japan, which makes it far more understandable, but I still can’t help but find it a bit odd. 

When I’ve gone home to visit, I’ve never had that experience being back in my parents’ house, or even sleeping on my sister’s couch in Seattle. My parents’ house is practically ingrained in me, but this was my first time sleeping on my sister’s couch, and yet I never had this moment of panic. 

I don’t want to psychoanalyze too much, but it does feel like it fits within a larger feeling of being back in Japan. When I got off the plane, it quickly became evident (once again) that Japan is a completely different culture than the one I was raised in. At first it’s the smaller things, the way they design their buildings, how they structure their lines, which side of the escalator you stand on. 

I’ve been living in Japan for over a year now, I’m probably as familiar with living here as I might ever be, but it’s always put into such stark contrast when I come back from being home. When I’m home, the adjustment is practically instantaneous, it was the culture I was raised in after all. Coming back to Japan, it still takes me a while. 

This was no more obvious than the first time I had to speak Japanese. Aside from quick thank yous, I hadn’t said much, but asking for my preferred brand of cigarettes at 7-11 came out in a jumbled mess. It felt wrong leaving my lips, just 2 weeks of no Japanese and it felt like trying to reattach a phantom limb I’d long lost. 

By some miracle the clerk understood, but it reminded me that this was a gap I’d never been able to bridge. I’m mostly content with my Japanese language ability, but it’s times like this where it feels like a bad paper cut. I don’t think about it much, but it’s always present, and sometimes, it begins to sting. 

I could try and remedy this, dive back into studying, summon up whatever motivated me to study Japanese in the first place. I do wonder though, if that’s more of a symptom than a root cause. In some ways, I think I’ve just become somewhat disillusioned with Japan. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved my time here. I’ve had countless experiences that feel so unique and distinct from my life in Canada. Before I came to Japan, it was easy to imagine an idyllic life here. I would be embraced by Japan, make friends, offer a unique perspective, and broaden my horizons. 

After living here for a year though, I have a much clearer picture of my life here. I wouldn’t say I’ve been embraced by Japan, I’ve struggled to make friends, and outside of the classroom, my perspective may not count for much. My horizons have certainly been broadened, but maybe I just prefer the horizons back home. 

This could also all be a side effect of the fact that I know my time here in Japan is coming to a close. After my September trip, there was still a chance I could stay longer, if I wanted. By the time I went back home for Christmas, I had already made the decision not to renew my contract. I got a taste of the life I would be coming back to, and maybe it makes me like my life here less. 

I had a similar experience last time I came back from a visit home. The first week back was hard, but I do wonder if this time it might be even harder. Mind you, I don’t plan to just be depressed until my time here is up and I finally return home, but a little sadness may be warranted. 

Once again, I left behind my friends, family, loved ones, and my dear cat. It was the last time I had to say goodbye, but it’s still goodbye nonetheless. I’ve returned to my life living alone, doing a job I like, but maybe don’t love, and have far fewer connections. 

I still have things I want to do before I leave of course, trips to plan, landmarks to see, nights to spend dancing the night away, but a lot of that will likely be by myself. My life here in Japan is simply lonely, and I feel like I’ve spent a long time convincing myself that wasn’t true, searching for a silver lining, but it is. 

This article has ended up being far moodier than I really intended it to be, but having a blog is the closest thing I’ve got to a journal, and I can’t help if I use it as a release valve from time to time. One of these days I’ll have to do a broader reflection on this blog, and see if I can really trace the arc of my time here in Japan. 

For today though, I think I’ll just try and give myself some space. Space for the sadness of leaving home, thankfully for the last time, but leaving nonetheless. Space for the loneliness I feel about returning to my life here in Japan. And hopefully, some space for the things I still want to do while I’m here. 

Taking a 10-hour plane ride, 3 trains, and a bus, then working the next day is enough to make anyone’s head spin. For now, I’ll just try and listen to my body and my heart, and do whatever I need to get by. I think after all that, I’ve earned feeling a little discombobulated.