Officially Any Good

Well, it’s officially official. I turned in my paper yesterday.

It’s kind of silly how, when a decision is actually uncertain, I will submit the paperwork as soon as I know. And yet when I know ahead of time, dither to and fro, take out the form, look at it, put it away again, unwilling to submit to the inevitable, pushing back til the last minute the official sealing of my own fate. It is my way to go dragging my heels (not kicking and screaming, that is far too dramatic and noisy) through a change of any appreciable size, and this upcoming repatriation is appreciable.

When I finally did turn in the form at the last possible moment, nothing changed, no new sense either of despair nor relief washed over me. This is the next step in the way of things, it does not push its weight upon you, because its weight was meant to settle gradually, day by day, and you’ve already begun to feel it some time ago, and it will get more and more obvious, in some ways more and more strenuous, as the days go on.

But you’re doing it right, taking it slow, even being willing to enjoy, to some extent, the way that it hurts to leave. Let yourself wax poetic as you watch the snow falling between you and the dark of the evergreens.

Yesterday was a day that could have been any day. After school, I walked up the hill to Sponic, had a swim, showered, came back to school where some of the girls on their way home stopped to talk to me, then rode with the music teacher back to town. It was the first round of test for third years to get into high school, and there was a dinner party that night. We talked and ate, and I forgot, and the food was so good, and the guests between heartbreaking and a little annoying once the beer wore off in the karaoke box and the principal wouldn’t stop shaking my hand, asking if I thought he was cool.

At some point during dinner, the judo coach was talking about his time in America, mishaps and fast food restaurants, and I saw reflections of my home in his words. Then he talked about the kyoudai, the students I refer to as twins even though I am fully aware that one is older, who may work their way (is this small town gullibility?) to the Olympics in judo in a couple years. I wondered, will I hear about it? Will I see them on TV, grappling with French kids, and remember how they were when I called on them in class?

I have a connection to this place, and while it will thin and grow taut, I like to think it will not break entirely. I don’t skim easily over change because I sink into things, or they sink into me. I burrow, I feed my need to explore, to find out shit. Some of it also comes by accident.

The band teacher said something in the car on the way back to town, about how good the school has been this year, all three classes stacking up well. Last year the third years weren’t very responsible, they were full of troublemakers, but this year, there’s a harmony in place that is rare in middle schools. She called it a “miracle” and I agreed, because middle school is a tough crowd, a tough age to be, and somehow this student body makes it looks easy. I sighed to myself. All that will change in a month, as graduation hits us and a new school year begins, so it’s not that I’m losing that. It’s just that I’m glad I got to be part of the miracle year, I guess, to watch them grow and become.

One thing I remember from my kepmo homework that sticks out still is something about how, not only is it important to believe in your ability to change yourself, but it is impossible to remain the same. I’ve had a tendency all my short life long to try to keep everything, to hold on to things, even when I knew I knew better. There are pieces of that I’ve been seeing recently in my iTunes, of all places.. I don’t use iTunes, or didn’t, but have been more lately, and a lot of the music I have isn’t stuff I sought out on my own. I’m not very good or motivated at chasing down music I like. I much prefer asking for my friends’ music and then letting it sink into my consciousness by just having it in the car until I get tired of it. There aren’t a lot of people in the world I have actively cut out of my life.. I can think of two, actually. And I still have the music they gave me.

Why? Ah, why not? Because it was theirs? It’s not theirs anymore. Because it reminds me of them? So it does. Is it so bad to be reminded? That’s not what I cut out; I didn’t want to deal with them anymore. Is keeping the stuff they gave me dealing with them? Remembering them is bittersweet, and I kind of like that.

So anyway, it’s impossible to remain the same. Like, even if you stay in the same place and do the same thing and get the same result, even if you never move forward, you still can’t stay the same. If you never take a step, or a leap, if you never try, you still won’t be the same old thing (theoretically, good thing, since you wanted to avoid that change, right?) you wanted to stay being.

It echoes into the contractual paperwork. It is impossible to stay in your apartment and job forever, even if you wanted to, which you must admit (while there are some thing of which you may never grow tired), you don’t even want to.

But if it’s impossible to remain the same, then why not try to become better? In whatever way. Stronger. Happier. Better at math. More patient. More kanji in your head. Whatever. My JET life is in its final one-sixth, but my ties to Japan could just be beginning. They will be different, in six months, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be any good.

"What I'm Reading"

Because of construction along the river, my commute has nearly doubled in time. I am consistently late for the morning meeting, missing it entirely. My VP says he thinks I am stressed about it.

Actually I'm not bothered at all. Aside from making extra sure I don't miss the bus (because driving yourself through the waiting turns of traffic IS actually stressful.. also then your lateness belongs entirely to you and is not the fault of the 'silly rules that make you take the bus'), I'm kind of enjoying the extra time. It makes it much more necessary for me to take a book along, but it also makes it much more rewarding to take a book along.

I realized after finishing The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo that my construction-road companions had become that book's characters. I was resistant at first to pick up a different story. I get like that sometimes.

I also have a tendency to be unduly influenced in thought pattern by what I am reading at the time. So I figured I'd keep a little bit on the sidebar letting you know what I'm consuming every morning from 7:30 to 8:10 (and beyond). Just another little 'what's up' I guess. So you can ask me how something was, or tell me what you thought of it when you read it years ago, or whatever.

Akashi Absolved

Akashi is a city almost-to-Kobe if you are coming from the west along the coast of Japan. It boasts a beautiful bridge to Awaji Island, some castle ruins, and its own style of takoyaki.

It is also the home of the driver's license center for Hyogo prefecture. So for some of us, it never mattered what Akashi had to offer. We were going to hate it anyway.

You can't associate a place with a long, painful drive, terrible wastes of time and vacation days, personal failure, and utterly ridiculous rules... without a little resentment.

I went back again on Thursday, to do battle with the beast.

Every time I had to go to Akashi (and take the requisite entire day off work, because it just takes that long), I labeled it on my calendar. My first attempt at the driving test was called "AKASHI - the practical" ... the second attempt was called "the finale" (aren't we hopeful!)... and the third attempt, "the charm" (as in, ", third time is").

I packed lighter for this go than ever before, since I would be carrying it all the whole way, rather than just putting it in the car. I had previously overpacked in a sort of heinous way, taking my heavy computer and all manner of things to do to the center, therefore condemning myself to carry them around on my back through the walk-through part of the course. I was much more judicious. Wallet, yes. Book, yes (but just one paperback). Notebooks, no, dictionary, no, camera, hell no, who wants memories of Akashi?

After managing to choose the wrong rain-fighting option (I really thought the poncho would work on a bike), and managing forget my paperwork (requiring another bike trip back to the apartment after getting off the bus at the post office, to which it traveled all of 50 meters), the morning was off to a splendid start. I roped the Other Georgian into driving me to the train station and at least managed to have nice conversations all the way there while my pants dried in the car.

The rest of the trip was more or less successful, only taking the wrong bus from Akashi station once. I made it to the testing center in the nick of time (according to the clock; the test starts at 12:55.. you can walk the course from 11:45 or so until then. But for some reason you have to be there between 10 and 10:30) and took my place on the seats in front of the endless test video, to read of course. I did watch some of the video and by now was able to decipher some of the information contained therein. They list some of the automatic fails for the test, such as "driving in the wrong lane," "running a stop sign," "collision or near collision with other vehicles on the course," and generally "being all over the road." They might have said something about "not looking at the correct mirrors in the correct order," too. "Not wearing proper shoes" was another part of the video (Jermaine-hostile shoes only!).. I walked the course twice at 11:45, then went in to treat myself to some mediocre (I'm generous) DMV-cafeteria soba noodles.

At test time, I was last in my section of line. This gave me the benefit of not having anyone ride along as passenger for my trial (you can sit in the back and observe the test of the person ahead of you in line). But also meant I had to wait a bit longer before my turn. Although I knew that this time I really had the test in the bag (after spending an hour with my good ol' driving instructor chanting "1, 2, 3, 4" as I checked each of the looking spots in the correct order for each type of turn again and again), I still found myself experiencing that very special brand of anxiety that brings its friend nausea along to hang out. I briefly considered throwing up in the grate drain to one side of the course 'road,' but decided against it.

The first girl received her talking-to inside the car while still in the driver's seat. That means fail. The guy ahead of me drove with such caution and ginger care, but I was worried for him because for all his fearful slowness, he didn't always check the bike spot right before turning, and goodness knows that'll disqualify the shit out of you! In the end, he was "too slow." Yes really. Fail. My turn.

I was passing the hell out of the test, and I knew it; I wasn't even rattled when I saw the lady making notes on the clipboard, even though writing = mistakes, generally. I could afford a few points. Things got dicey in the crank turn, as I reversed three times and was convinced right at the end that I was caught between the curb and a fourth reverse (4 times will disqualify you... one is fine, but two or three just loses you points)... although I made it out of there, I was scared that my point loss in the crank would cripple me right into a failing score. That's basically the end of the test, though, and it's a good thing, because my confidence was slipping.

I pulled carefully up to the finish curb and resignedly pulled the break, put it in park, turned off the car. "Lemmon-san," she began, and I turned my plaintive eyes on her, ready to hear my new set of "advice" about this test.

"Could you get out and come around to this side?" she asked. I blinked. That totally means pass (so long as you exit the car properly-- to see that last bit is why they do it). I exited the car properly and came around so she could tell me I'd passed. Happily returned inside to wait with the only other dude who'd passed that day (he turned out to be a friend of a friend, and resident of Himeji, so how about that?). They brought us upstairs at 2:30 and gave us a piece of paper that said we'd be getting our licenses at about 4:20, after the processing began at 2:40. I shrugged because at least the waiting was worth something now.

The man told us to be there at 3:30 and that we had free time til then. The Other Guy Who Passed pointed out that this suggested they were running almost an hour behind schedule. They had mentioned that they had a "lot of people" that day.. meaning, I guess, first-time drivers who had passed. We didn't have anywhere else to go, so the guy and I sat there for a bit, until another officer-looking man appeared and had us fill out a form. A lecture began to take place in the area right in front of us, but we were ushered into the photo booths along with about ten people who did NOT look like fresh drivers. We then waited another few minutes, paid our fee, and were handed our licenses by 3pm. I guess they rushed us to the front of the process since they were already running behind and would rather deal with us separately than along with the batch of newbies.

Whatever the reason, we were actually released an hour and a half earlier than we normally would have been. I was so happy that by the time we had bussed back to the train station, I felt like making something of this "vacation" day I'd had to take for this, so I parted with my new Himeji test-passin' friend and followed the signs that said "Akashi Castle Ruins."

Because, you know, castle ruins? Are kind of my thing.

Akashi has a gorgeous park. I was sort of sad I had tossed the camera. It had forest paths and ruins and athletic fields and ponds, and lots of kids and old people and dogs, and even one making-out couple (a rarity here). I felt like I kind of came back to myself there, because it was like (and not like) Centennial park in Nashville, and it was also just my kind of thing. At some point, upon hearing the ke-chi-ke-cha of trains at the nearby station, I actually began to sing out loud ("Train in the Distance"). I'd been really anxious and sad since returning to Japan, but being able to get out and explore just a little bit made me remember better why I wanted to come here in the first place, and why I put myself through the silly mess of dealing with Akashi too.

In the stone walls and bike trails and wooden benches, from the top of the castle-not-anymore-a-castle, with a view of the ultramodern looking Awaji bridge, treetops, the train station, ships on the water, and mountains beyond, I found it in my heart to forgive Akashi for our past encounters.

Things that are easier in Japan: glasses

Even before I came to Japan, I was looking into getting a slightly stronger pair of glasses. My old glasses weren’t really a problem, but they seemed to fall short in dimly-lit far-seeing situations like theatres. I also wanted new glasses for scenery gazing.

But I don’t understand insurance and eye doctor visits and deductibles and charges in my own country. It is natural to assume that in a foreign country, navigating that mess is difficult tantamount to not-worth-dealing-with. But I tentatively asked people like my JTE and keeper Mikan-sensei, and our Japanese teacher what the procedure might be, and where to go to get an eye exam.

They were all a little vaguely confused and suggested I just go to the glasses store.

So the day Jermaine was born, I did just that. Heke accompanied me first, and we were later joined by The Cat. We ended up in Himeji by the end of it, browsing frames and exclaiming over how easy this whole process actually was.

Once I picked out my frames, I looked into a little machine, requested higher power, tried on some trial glasses that made me look like a classic nerd in eighties depiction, and then my glasses were produced in about twenty minutes for under fifty dollars (well maybe not with the conversion rate, but still).

I don’t wear them all the time, because they are heavy, and my old ones are still sufficient. But when I want to see far, they are there to provide me with super vision.

So, thanks Japan for making that at least a bit easier.