Teaching in Japan

Banners hanging at the school gates for bunkasai

I talk about a lot of cultural things on this blog, but many of my posts are not so much connected to my career in Japan as they are my after-school life. However, teaching seems to still be the #1 method people use to get started in Japan, as there are lots of companies and exchange programmes to get you there, take away some of the headaches of getting established in the Land of the Rising Sun.

I taught English in Japan as part of Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) programme. JET is a fantastic programme sponsored by three Japanese Ministries and serves not only as a way to educate schoolchildren in English, but also as a grassroots cultural exchange effort. ALTs (Assistant Language Teachers) are recruited from all over the world via a lengthy application process, followed by an intense orientation session in Tokyo, and are then dispersed all over Japan to their new schools. Junior high and high school are the most common placements, though elementary schools are slowly taking on more JETs.

When I was accepted, I received one of the most coveted placements - Osaka. Osaka no longer hires prefectural ALTs via the programme (only municipal ALTs, now), so I was very fortunate to have gone when I did, as Osaka was my first choice and has since become my second home. My three years living there were some of the best years of my life.

The JET application process is very extensive. The paper application was enormous, and required a number of documents that took time to put together. A medical self-assessment, proof of Canadian citizenship, university transcripts, a copy of my degree and letters of reference (one of which had to be from a teacher or professor) are just some of the items that had to be included for the application, due in November - to go to Japan the following August!

I had a lot of tutoring experience, which I'm sure is what pushed me to the next stage - I'd spent the summer in my third year of university doing a work experience program very similar to an ALT's job at a local school. However, I was certain I'd blown the interview when they asked questions I hadn't ever considered a possibility, like Canadian census information. Luckily, my personality seemed to make some impact, and I even managed to answer the question about location so well that I received my first choice of destination. I gave the interviewers an explanation of how my hometown dialect was so different from most Canadians' that I knew I'd feel right at home in Osaka, where the people speak in a relaxed and easy way. 

I was determined to broaden my cultural awareness - I initially hoped to join a few clubs at my school, but I felt like I would make them uncomfortable by being there, or be unable to commit the kind of time needed. My students were often at their club practices until evening - every evening! As an ALT, though, I was a de facto supervisor with the ESS (English Speaking Society), and made that my only school-related extracurricular.

In my spare time, I tried out aikido, ikebana, and yosakoi dancing for a time, and stuck with aikido for about a year, as I'd always been interested in martial arts. I returned to yosakoi after returning to Canada, as well. Through school and JET seminars I had opportunities to try out glass bead making, Noh theatre, and tea ceremony. I saw many Takarazuka theatre shows in nearby Hyogo Prefecture. I participated in holiday rituals, including setsubun, tanabata, and New Year's hatsumoude every year.

The cultural divide was very tough at points. I struggled a lot with the Japanese work ethic - work long hours, socialize with your co-workers, and keep busy even when there isn't anything to do. I was free to go at 4:30 as per my contract, but I was always the first person out the door when I did so - it was tough to stay in the office and look occupied when I was itching to go, but I felt bad saying "see you" and strolling out two hours before my co-workers. Besides the work ethic, I was the youngest person by far in the office for most of my time there. I got along well with the students because I was young and approachable and quite media-savvy - but it did set me apart from many of my co-workers.

Aside from that, I really disliked being such an obvious cultural outsider - one of the things that really did bother me about Japan was that no matter how hard I tried to understand, the sense of being "other" was always there. Fortunately, it got better with time!

The most important thing I learned about communication was that insecurity wasn't going to get me anywhere. For a long time, I didn't have the courage to try starting conversations or even going someplace where I'd encounter words that I didn't know - even the grocery store was frustrating at times.

It wasn't long before I realized my Japanese wasn't going to improve unless I used it, though, and that I didn't need to be afraid of talking to strangers - all of my best encounters came as a result of taking a chance with people. City-dwellers often keep to themselves, so many seemed unapproachable at first, but Osakans are some of the friendliest people in Japan!

By far, the thing I missed most about home was familiar foods. Even though I love Japanese food, I found myself craving "comfort food" when I was feeling down - not just my mother's home cooking, but even food from restaurants I almost never visited back in Canada! At one point, I was bringing home McDonalds 2 or 3 times a week - even though I had probably only eaten it a couple of times in the past decade. I craved the familiar, and took what I could get when it came to the selection. 

I also missed the friendliness of Canadian people, and the tendency toward helping strangers - the Japanese showed their friendliness in somewhat of a different way that I found, at times, to be quite a lot more detached. The people of Kansai (including Osaka, and Mie, where I had a wonderful local experience) are somewhat more open, but not in quite the same way as the town I'd been raised in.

Toward the end of my exchange, I visited nearby Mie Prefecture, an area I had been to just once before, despite it being so close to Osaka. It was the first time I truly felt the "small-town values" so many rural JETs speak of. While my visit to Mie was supposed to have been a day trip, a local festival prompted me to make very last-minute plans to stay the night, even though I had only the contents of my purse (a book, a pen, a Netbook and less than 6,000 yen in cash) to work with. Thanks to the attention and generosity of a local hostel owner, I had a place to rest my head and a way back to the train station at 5 o'clock the following morning in order to make it to work on time. Even though she had other guests to attend to, the hostel owner graciously made up a bed for me, a surprise guest, and offered to take me to the station by car, so that I wouldn't have to call a taxi so early in the morning. I will never forget that hospitality.

Teaching in Japan made an immeasurable impact on my life. When I returned to Canada, I knew I had to stay connected to this experience in some way - it really shaped my career aspirations, which until then had been very vague. I moved to Toronto and began working with a youth exchange program, at first as a volunteer and later as a part-time coordinator, helping high school students considering spending a year abroad. Japan is one of the most popular programs we offer, so I feel extra-confident sharing my advice with these students, since I've seen "life in a Japanese high school" first-hand!

As for my travel plans, going back to Japan to visit is in the cards for me in the next two years, I hope. I'd also like to visit Scandinavia, Europe and other parts of Asia - being abroad really opened my eyes to how many different people and cultures were out there. I want to see them all!

Thinking

The backstreets of Gojo, Kyoto

Sometimes I will think back to some incredibly insignificant detail of my life in Osaka and just be completely floored by how strong a reaction those memories elicit. Nothing is immune - today, glimpsing a photo of Ebisuchō Station on the Sakaisuji subway line, a filthy hovel at best and an unpleasant place to visit even in daylight, caused the wind to just go out of me, remembering those nights I spent wandering Den Den Town. 

Of course, that's what I created this blog for. I really hope that at times other expats and ex-expats see my posts and find a little bit of themselves in them, too. Even though the sad nostalgia can be draining at times, it's better to remember well now so that we can continue to remember fondly, later.

Labels

Japan's most famous anime mascot, Astro Boy

The word "Japanophile" really bothers me. So does otaku. There's really no easy word to describe a passion for Japanese culture that some people won't see as negative, and that's a shame. Do Anglophiles (admirers of English culture) feel like this sometimes?

Looking down on others makes people feel better about themselves, and among foreign residents in Japan, many are quite derisive about those who come to the country because they enjoy popular culture. The perception comes partially as a result of otaku culture in the West, which is usually associated with social awkwardness or out-and-out lunacy, depending on which aspect you happened to walk in on.

Of course, there are some deeply problematic people, and some of them are certainly enthusiastic about Japan as a hobby, or are unwavering apologists. I do think it's unfortunate, though, that people can't just enjoy things.  

I travelled on a GO Transit bus during Anime North weekend this year, whereupon turning down the airport-hotel stretch of Dixon Road, we drove into a sea of con-goers dressed up in everything from cardboard boxes to bikinis. I'm used to this stuff - the other passengers weren't. As we waited at the lights, the crosswalk looking more like Shibuya than little old Mississauga, they peered out the windows and started talking among themselves, wondering what kind of strange carnival was being held out there.

Anime fandom goes hand in hand with an appreciation for Japan, and while some otaku go the opposite way and care little about anything but the media aspect of it, many others are crazy about Japan simply for being The Place Where Anime Comes From, and have little concept of how Japanese society actually functions. 

Fortunately, still more are well-rounded and interested in other aspects of Japan, but the unfortunate trend tends to be that if you started learning Japanese because you happen to enjoy anime or manga, and that path eventually takes you to Japan, you become a target for all the foreigners who moved there because it was a great chance to supplement their party lifestyle and now hate living abroad but can't or won't go home. Then there are the holier-than-thou types who, because they appreciate the higher forms of culture (and don't get me wrong, I practised ikebana myself, and the Japanese arts are beautiful) despise pop culture on principle. 

This is a terrible way to live - I don't see the point in mocking other peoples' hobbies. The unfortunate reality, though, is that after seeing the way otaku, Japan apologists and Japanophiles are openly derided in certain JET communities, I found myself hesitant to socialize with people who seemed to be in Japan for a lark, in case they turned out to be one of these types. I probably missed out on a few opportunities to meet good people, but at the time I didn't feel up to fighting the good fight to defend why I wanted a tatami room and to send nengajo and to cook Japanese instead of Western dishes.

The word otaku doesn't have quite as much negative connotation in Japan as it did twenty years ago, luckily, but Japanese fans are even more secretive about their hobbies. When you cosplay at an event in Japan, you aren't permitted to come in costume from your hotel - you have to register and use the cosplay dressing room to change when you arrive. I suppose this, too, originates from fans not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves. But something I really liked about Japan is that it's OK to be into anime, or manga, or trains, or bentou art, or British television, or anything at all really - it's just not acceptable to be over-the-top about it. No matter what country you're in, the label's not particularly good.

These days, anyway, they're saying that 'the geeks shall inherit the earth,' and I hope that does good things for the perception of fans going forward, especially with the anime boom here in North America dropping off pretty sharply in recent years, Still, someday, I'd like to feel that my interests and hobbies aren't 'strange' to anyone at all.

My Darling is a Foreigner

The first two volumes of My Darling is a Foreigner

I have a tough time with reading in Japanese. It's unfortunate, but I've never been a patient person - this is primarily why I fail at baking, drawing, and other hobbies that require the simple skill of waiting. I have a tendency to rush - and it makes language-learning particularly hard.

For a time, I tried reading manga in Japanese to help encourage my reading skills. I tend to like the kind of manga that comes chock-full of big, complicated words and no furigana at all, though (Tezuka Osamu, I'm looking at you!) so this quickly became a failed effort. The amount of dictionary lookups it took to get through a chapter of Detective Conan made the pace mind-numbingly slow. At some point, I found Chi's Sweet Home, an adorable cat manga targeted at a younger age group, but found that not quite challenging enough. I was enjoying, but not really learning anything new when I read.

Recently, though, I've found a happy medium in「ダーリンは外国人」; My Darling is a Foreigner. I bought the two first volumes of My Darling is a Foreigner from Honto back in June, as my 'test' purchase from them to gauge the shipping costs. (Came to ¥800 - fantastic!) It's the story of a mixed married couple; she Japanese, he American with Italian-Hungarian heritage. It is a very nice departure from the usual "Japanese girl meets foreign man" plot, as the leading man, Tony, is a linguist who's very interested in wordplay and the leading lady and artist of the story, Saori, is a manga artist. They are not, by any stretch, your typical mixed couple living in Japan! There was even a comedy movie a few years back based on the franchise (it wasn't bad at all, though it also wasn't quite in line with the books) and I used to see animations based on Tony on the Yamanote Line media monitors. Natsukashii, ne!

The main draw of My Darling is a Foreigner for me, right now, is the level and pace of the comics as a study tool. The short illustrated stories in the books are usually just long enough to get in some good reading practice, and often address things that are funny to me as a linguist and student of Japanese, which makes it a perfect choice for aspiring JLPT test-takers.

The first volume, I had actually already read in the form of a translation - a bilingual version of the book was published while I was in Japan. The alternate title of one of the English prints, which was offered for a time on Amazon, was "Is He Turning Japanese?" It's still in print in the bilingual format in Japan, but much tougher to find on Amazon, so I'd recommend using the Honto.jp link I provided above if you'd like to pick it up.

Reading it in its native Japanese has been much more of a challenge than reading the bilingual version, and I can stop myself more easily from peeking at the English now, though that would certainly be a help when I'm stuck! It's good that you can enjoy these books on either level, in any case - with the English text, or without. When I finish this set, I'm definitely going to pick up the next one!

Reverse Culture Shock In Comic

Today I ran across the webcomic of a girl who'd just come back from studying in Japan for five weeks and uploaded some of her reverse culture shock impressions to her website. Reverse culture shock is the entire reason I decided to start this blog, so I thought I'd share her site with you!

Check it out at I think in comics! Her comics and photos about Japan during her stay are also really great - I think I see where my afternoon's going...

Irish Chocolate

Not sure if Irish.

When I'd been in Japan about a year or so, my friend Marisa told me that one of her friends from university was going to be doing a study-abroad in Japan. Imagine our surprise when she turned out to be living right in my city! I offered to guide this friend, Meghan, to Kobe to meet up with some friends of her parents, as I was planning to visit Kobe for Pink Ribbon Day. Kobe Port Tower was going to be lit in pink, and it was something I wanted to see.

I met Meghan and her friends from 〇〇 University just before the light-up, and after seeing the Tower and greeting her guests, we went out to Bikkuri Donkii for dinner. I was intrigued by the 'Irish Chocolate' drink on the menu. Did it have Baileys in it, I wondered? Kahlua? Was it some special kind of chocolate that was better than, say, Belgian or British? I decided to ask our server before I ordered it.

When she arrived, I managed (in my not-great Japanese), to inquire "What is the Irish Chocolate?"

The server explained that it was a chocolate drink made with cream.

"OK. So what is in it?"

"Milk, and cocoa..."

"Wait, but why is it 'Irish' chocolate, then?"

She didn't understand my question at all. "Eh?"

"Why is it called Irish?"

She just looked at me, confused, so I thought maybe it was my poor Japanese (which it was, but this didn't help). I asked "What is 'Irish' about it? Does it have Irish alcohol? Irish flavour?"

"I don't understand."

Frustrated, I ran out of ways to creatively word my question. "Does it taste like Ireland? What does it have in it that's Irish??"

A helpless shrug. The waitress didn't seem upset, just confused - my table, however, was almost in tears laughing.

Feeling quite incompetent in front of my new friends, who were all exchange students and sure to be totally fluent in three months while I continued to struggle with reading my phone bill, I decided to get the drink and figure it out myself. It was slightly coffee-flavoured, a blender drink not unlike you might get at Starbucks.  Right, coffee - you know, like Irish Coffee, except not quite. Only later did I realize where we had gotten our wires crossed - that to me, Irish means 'something from Ireland,' whereas to her 'Irish' was just a curious English word whose meaning was a mystery. In Japanese, to say something has the properties of a place, you would say the name of the country itself - in this case, airurando (Ireland) kara or airurando no mono. Had I used the Japanese word for "Irish" instead of what was printed on the menu, I would certainly have had better luck.

ああ。そうだったのか。

At least the drink was delicious. As for my new friends, Nicole and I are still in contact, and Meghan and I now get together on Skype every week to study for the JLPT, so if I must be incompetent, at least I'm in good company!

Spa World

Atlantis
Photo courtesy of the Spa World website

The phrase "my co-workers/students used to tease me because..." is becoming old hat now, since I've written about a number of just those things! After my second or third trip to Spa World, I knew I was going to have to be more discrete when I was asked how I spent my weekend. But how could I resist? During the special campaigns, I could spend the entire day at Spa World for just 1,000 yen!

And oh, I did. When it was raining or snowing, nothing beat sitting in the Spanish bath with the cool water on my face. When it was 35 degrees outside, a quick hop into Finland was the perfect cool-down. And when people came to visit me and wanted to try the hot spring experience, where better?

(Don't answer that - I took plenty of people to traditional onsen, too!)

The basic gist of Spa World, for those who aren't familiar, is that of a super sento, or super public bath. For the price of admission (3,000 yen for an all-day pass during a weekend in the high-season, and as low as 1,000 in the off-season), you have unlimited run of their fantastically kitschy themed bathing facilities until 10 AM the following morning. You have a bracelet that tracks your spending in the bathing areas, so you can buy food, snacks, drinks, spa services like massage or akazuri, etc. You also have access to the giant pool and waterslides on the top floor, where there are rooftop and indoor mixed baths - bathing suits required.

Bali
Photo courtesy of the Spa World website

I should point out now that while Spa World is a great introduction for nervous foreigners into the world of Japanese-style public bathing, the main baths are no-swimsuits-allowed. One of the stupider things I did during my first few months in the country was try this at Spa World with a friend who was visiting. Neither of us had ever been to a hot spring, but we knew that the pool floor of Spa World required bathing suits, so we figured nobody would mind if we wore them into the main baths, too, especially since it was something like 2 AM! 

Spa World Entrance
Located in sometimes-questionable Shinsekai

We were not inside for even thirty seconds before an elderly customer came up to us and explained in broken English that we needed to take them off. I think she was trying to save us the embarrassment of being seen and asked by an employee to go change. (I assure you, I am equally embarrassed, looking back on this incident.) We came back with towels held over ourselves, trying to look only at the ceiling. It was only later that I realized that what we had done was akin to showing up at a public pool back in Canada to swim wearing jeans and turtleneck sweaters. Effectively harmless, yes, but why would you want to?

By the end of the night, we pretty much got it. In Japan, nudity is just not a thing. There is nothing sexual about the bathing culture, and once you get over the initial fear, for me at least it turned into no big deal. For the dozen or so friends and family I hosted during my stay overseas, only one of them was so uncomfortable with the public baths that I had to apologize afterwards. Others chose to join me on mini hot spring vacations! I had a chance to try akazuri, Doctor Fish, Thai and Swedish massage and cafeteria-style tatami dining.

After that first visit, Spa World became my go-to place for a pick-me-up. There was just nothing like it - on certain months, ladies would have access to the baths in the European Zone (4th floor), where there were baths done up in the images of Greece, Rome, Spain, Italy, Atlantis and Finland. You would rinse on your way in,  and soak in whichever one you pleased. Once you'd warmed up and relaxed a little, you could go to the washing facilities to soap down or shampoo and condition, or head for the saunas. The European Zone features steam and salt saunas in addition to regular ones. A mudbath is tucked away in the Grecian area. Spain has a cafe with footbaths under the tables, as well as an open-air bath with a waterfall. Atlantis features live fish and baby sharks under its glass floor! To open up the pores, try Finland's cold-water baths and then relax on the submerged deck chairs of the Mediterranean Sea.

Finland
Photo courtesy of the Spa World website

The Asia Zone, on the 6th floor, offers an experience much closer to what you might find in a typical onsen, though on a much larger scale. Giant hinoki tubs are in the indoor Japanese bath, while the outdoor area has stone baths of different temperatures and the iconic hinoki barrel baths. In the springtime, cherry blossoms bloom in the outdoor area. The cafe is part of the Japanese experience, offering a few traditional summer treats like shaved ice and ice cream.

The Asia Zone also has a mudbath and salt sauna, courtesy of Bali and India, respectively. India usually offers the hottest experience, as well as a steam sauna. Persia's milky waters are a great place to start out for the new-to-onsen, and you can rest on the lounge chairs in Persia as well. Japanese-style lounge with cafe. Dr. Spa is the newest feature on this floor, with three pools pumped oxygen, hydrogen and carbonic acid to give them a bubbly, healing quality.

Rooftop bath at Spa World - Festival Gate and Tsutenkaku in the background
Photo courtesy of the Spa World website

My favourite spot by far, though, has to be the top floor rooftop bath. This is in the mixed bathing area (suits required - you can rent one at the locker room desk if you can manage Japanese sizes) and it has two small access rivers that start indoors and pass under the wall. Once you're out there in the rooftop whirlpools, it doesn't matter what time of year it is, it's always comfortable! Festival Gate, the long-closed amusement part, always looked so creepy in the night time. The next time I go, it probably won't be there, sadly, but the night view of Tsutenkaku can't be beat from here, either. One of my favourite memories is laying on the side of the bath in December, looking up at the sky and the tower, with the whole top floor all to ourselves. I decided that I wanted to live at Spa World forever. Ah, how I miss it--!

A Biking Story

For a long time, I had my eye on a particular chair at the local department store. It was small, fairly light and by far the most comfortable thing I'd sat in since arriving in the country, including the leather sofas on the second floor of the home furnishing store. I know comfy chairs when I see them.

Looks good, right?

The problem being that the chair in question was green, and the last one they had. It was actually one of the few greens I kind of like, a subdued limey colour. However, my living room contained 438576 shades of pink. So, I held off for a long while, probably two months, before finally I said "well, fine," and went to go buy the chair, rent a movie and sack out on my tatami rug for the rest of the evening.

When I got to the department store, though - FOILED.

The green chair had been sold. 

I hailed an employee and strung together a very ugly sentence that, translated, amounted to something like, "over there...green chair...last week...do you have?" She got the picture though and said it was gone, sorry. So I tried "more store...somewhere in Osaka...is there?"

How she figured out what I meant, I'll never know, but she brought out a store listing and told me that there was a branch of their store in Kyoto and one in Ibaraki. Well, someone on the JET Facebook group had said that her town, Ibaraki, was "a stone's throw" away from mine so I Google Mapped it up. At the 3rd or 4th zoom level, my apartment was on one side of the screen and the store was on the other. I couldn't calculate biking distance for some reason. It was far, yeah, but I figured I could do it, or rather, had to, as now I had to have that chair. It was on, now.

My road had considerably fewer sidewalks
Or buildings, for that matter

So the next afternoon I set out for adventure. I biked alongside the river and through a million back roads, cursing Ibaraki for having little or no sidewalk. The beginning of the city was all rice paddies and overgrown fields, until eventually I hit pachinko parlours. After about 45 minutes I stopped at a Lawson to make sure I was actually going the right way.

With all the stops, the trip was roughly an hour and a half.

Fortunately for me, the department store had the chair in stock in many colours. Unfortunately, it was a full 2,000 yen more expensive than the one at the other store!?  Well, I'd come more than ten kilometres for the thing and I wasn't leaving without it. (Technically I did leave without it, though; I paid them 400 yen to deliver it to my apartment on Monday after school! It was a little bigger than I remembered.) Since my bicycle basket was empty still, I got a duvet from Muji, two fluffy floor cushions a few other small things.

Around five, I headed back out and strapped my purchases to my bicycle. The ride home was actually rougher; this time I was on the opposite side of the street in order to move with the traffic during those times that the sidewalks randomly DISAPPEARED. Unfortunately, during one of those times, I hit a pothole that could have given someone whiplash at the right angle. All seemed well, until about two minutes later when my tire started making rubbery noises.

There'd been a gas station about fifty metres back, so after confirming that my tire was indeed flat as a pancake, I walked my bicycle back to it and had them put more air in. The guy there said that I should take my bike to a jitenshaya-san (lit. "Mr. Bike," meaning a shop) to have it checked. I said OK and started keeping a close eye on the stores as I passed them, watching for jitenshaya-sans and gas stations, just in case, as well as bus stops. I'd seen buses pass me multiple times.

Five minutes later the tire was flat again.

I was near a bus stop so I attempted to board the next one after explaining that my bicycle was "broken" and I needed to get it back home. Unfortunately, the driver would not allow me to take it on the bus. I had a panic moment - it was now quite dark and I was rougly halfway back, with an irritating rice paddy/barren field combo still lying between myself and home. Stepped back off the bus frustrated and thinking about how guilty that guy was going to feel if I got hit by a car or murdered on the way back. Not that there's much danger of that in this country, but I do worry when stranded in the middle of nowhere! 

I decided to try and find a shop, and if not, park my bicycle in a well-lit spot and take the next bus home, then retrieve the bike on foot the next day. Luckily, there WAS a jitenshaya-san very closeby who was totally nice and had my tire patched perfectly and tested and reattached within ten minutes, for 800 yen. He was really nice and tried to chat as he worked while I did my best to respond using only nouns. When he finished and I was back on the road, I took it veeeeery slow (sometimes no sidewalks/opposite side of the road from last time/NO STREET LIGHTS, WHAT THE) and was incredibly relieved when I made it to the next town. Not home, but close enough that I was comfortable...but more mishaps awaited me. I forgot to change to the other side of the road before crossing the bridge. So when I reached the other side (and this is a loooooong bridge) I found that there was no stoplight or crosswalk, and 6 lanes of traffic. Cool. So I had to go the opposite direction from home, down over the stairs with the bike and take the pedestrian tunnel back. I stumbled into my apartment at 7:40, having lost six hours of my life, 400 yen in shipping, 800 yen for a bike tire patch, and 2,000 extra yen for the non-floor-model chair, making this a very costly venture. I learned two things:

1) I should buy things I like immediately to save myself later hassle (!!)

2) Ibaraki is not a bikable destination and I should have just taken the bus in the first place. (!!!)

That'll teach me to try to save money.

Welcome

Hello everyone, and welcome to my new blog - Tadaimatte. As a bit of background, I returned from living abroad in Japan a little more than a year ago, and have found the adjustment back to life in Canada a little difficult. I think everyone thought me to be a "lifer" once I got over there, but there are important people here whom I hated being so far away from!

I've been looking for ways to connect with my life in Japan and put some of the reverse culture shock and homesickness to rest. I volunteer with exchange students and write for JapanTourist, and from time to time I write as well. I thought, why not share some of these struggles, and document some of my memories from Japan? Thus the creation of this blog. I hope everyone - ex-expats and Japan hopefuls alike - will find something close to home in my writings.

ただいま。。。って。