I don't want to leave the Lawson's I go to almost every day, where I occasionally chat with the shop ladies who have steadily warmed up to me as the semester has gone on.
I don't want to leave Kansai Gaidai, where I have learned more Japanese in four months than I learned in the whole seven years previous, where my every classroom is an astounding mix of cultures and backgrounds and native languages, where I can daily experience new perspectives I'd never have the chance to see in the US.
I don't want to leave Hirakatashi, where it's a pretty big city without feeling as crowded as smaller cities I've visited in the US, where I'm just a stone's throw away from both Kyoto and Osaka (and not much farther from Kobe and Nara), where I've found all sorts of awesome little places--shops, bakeries, cake stores, coffee shops, burger joints, a perfect karaoke spot, an eyeglasses store, a hair salon, all sorts of things.
I don't want to leave Japan, where many of my niche interests that aren't all that popular in the states are ever-present all around me, where I can spot other people with similar interests on a daily basis--but where people don't reach into your personal space (mental or physical) in places where you might not want them to (trains, buses, planes, restaurants; on and on the list goes). Nobody in Japan ever says "You're too quiet; you should talk more." Nobody in Japan ever acts like my natural introversion is a problem that needs to be fixed with more social activity or exposure. And when you do find someone to open up to, who's willing to open up to you in return, it feels like so much more valuable and special of an experience, rather than an overly-common occurrence.
I don't want to leave the food here. The snacks my mom has mailed me from home have steadily grown to be too salty; too sweet. I'm sure I'll adjust back again, but I'll miss the cake here, the onigiri, the Calpis Water, the pudding, the sushi, the yakisoba. The ability to eat something sweet without feeling like it's too much after a few bites, the ability to appreciate the fact that a less-salty taste doesn't mean a less-flavorful taste. The presence of fruits and vegetables that taste so much better than any fruits or veggies I've ever had in the States (home-grown included). I'm looking forward to having mac and cheese again, and I'm sure I'll adjust back to the US' cuisine within a couple weeks, but I'll still miss all the amazing flavors I've gotten to enjoy and experience on a daily basis here.
I don't want to leave the public transport system. Being able to have personal mobility on a level I've never experienced before and might never get to experience again has been nothing short of incredible. A trip to the mall, to the station, to the bookstore, to the restaurant has been only a whim away all semester. Since I have had an unlimited bus pass for the area around Kansai Gaidai, my homestay, and the two nearest train stations, there have been plenty of days I've been able to go to school, go to the bookstore, go to the cake shop, all without spending one extra yen on transportation. And even if I want to go to the mall or something, it's only like $3.50 to take the train to the mall and back, round trip. A round trip to Kyoto or Osaka only sets me back by about $8. I'm free to go anywhere in the area I want, whenever I want. And that's been more beneficial to me than I could ever really describe.
I don't want to leave the person I've been able to become here. I've learned that the emotion I feel so often back home in the States isn't loneliness, but under-stimulation. In the States, since I have no real personal mobility (due to my lack of a car/driver's license), I learned to associate the ability to go places and do things with having friends--so when I don't get a chance to go anywhere beyond school, church, home, in a cycle, I think that what I'm feeling is lonely. I realized, it's not loneliness--it's under-stimulation. It's a need to go places and do things. I don't necessarily have to have someone to go with; I just have to have things to do to break the monotony. And what I've learned during my time here is that being by myself, traveling by myself, experiencing the world by myself, can be every bit as satisfactory as doing the same things with friends (and I've had many opportunities to do that too while I've been here).
But above everything else, I really don't want to leave my church here. Their passion for the faith is so beyond anything I've ever encountered in the States. Their love for each other, their love for God, and their love for all other people (both Christian and not) is so amazing to me. Their love for me and the other foreign students has more than once brought me to the verge of tears.
Today, I did cry, when they placed their hands on me, thanked God for giving me a love for Japan, and asked Him to please bring me back to them. I've been telling them for weeks that I feel at home here; that I feel I belong here; that I hope to come back one day. I told them today that I feel God wouldn't give me such a deep love for Japan for no reason. And they agreed with me. They told me they will continue to pray that God will guide me where He wills, but that if it is His will, He will bring me back to them.
I'll be praying that too.
When I left the US four and a half months ago, I wasn't sure what I was going to find when I came to Japan, whether things would go well or not. In December, I said in a blog post, "I'm going to be a better person for the experience, I know. But it's still hard knowing that the world back home is going to go on without me, and that I'm going to miss a lot of things. I'm definitely so excited to go on this adventure, and like I said, I wouldn't trade it for the world. It just sort of feels like I really am going to have to trade my whole home world so that I can go."
I did have to trade my whole home world, true. I had to miss events back home that in a perfect world, I could have teleported into and joined my family and friends in celebrating. But in return, I got a whole new home world, one that I can't wait to return to as soon as possible, whether for grad school or sometime in the years ahead.
But I'll be back, that much is sure.
Mata ne, Nihon. See you again, my dear Japan.
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