I have about 8 more days in the States. I move out of my house tomorrow (ish), and the nail-biting anticipation and horror of what I am actually about to set into has not yet sunk into my plan-idled head. I have spent the last few weeks so busy planning-planning money, planning transportation, planning packing, planning go away meetings with local friends-I've at times downright forgotten the whole purpose of the planning: that in 192 hours, I will be bound for a country halfway round the world.
It starts to feel a little strange. I hear announcements on the radio about how such-and-such fair, or play, or movie is coming out on such-and-such a date, and my immediate reaction is," Cool I want to see that, what am I doing on.... Oh yeah." I'm emerging onto a whole new social scene. As the Planning For Japan comes to a grinding halt, I am filled with a kind of nervous void, because I have no idea what to expect once actually landed. I have no expectations with which to plan around. So planning, which had become a way to venting my anxiety, has finally at long last failed me.
My planning always involved a touch of paranoia. Everyone on the boards of course says the same: "chill out, just come in with good intentions and be open to new experiences and you'll do fine," but I feel myself wanting to play the indignant teenager-screw you, you can't understand what I'm going through, you were never a first year JET, blah blah. I mean, honestly, my logical brain knows that the road to hell is paved with unrealistic expectations and that "it takes more muscles to frown than smile" is an annoying but necessary mantra, but come on, chill out? I'm moving to a small town in a foreign country with two suitcases, $2,000 (that's 211,640 Y for the folks playing at home), and an apartment that might, hopefully, be clean, though my predecessor said he's applied at least three loads of bleach to it.
But hey, I'm chill. I'm cool. I can fight every natural urge in my nature to form some kind of expectation about what the next year of my life 'll be like. A-okay Skipper.
Thankfully, I did finally get my contract, and it clarified what had been predicted: I am in Mitoyo City, which is to a city what a hybrid is to a car: has the same general appearance but is distinctively different in the gears. Mitoyo was created by combining 7 smaller villages, and it is in one of those villages I am actually situated. I am teaching at two middle schools, and a handful of elementary schools whenever they feel. I have an apartment with a bed, a TV, a fridge, a cooking stove, and a bicycle. I may not have Internet for months, and I may get my underwear stolen if I leave it to dry outside, but overall, the living seems suitable. And functional. I like em functional.
Though it may be selfish to admit, the thought that 2,000 are going through the same turmoil as I am somewhere in the globe is not comforting. But maybe it will be in Chicago, and then Tokyo. I'm looking forward to sharing my frenzy with people other than the posters on the JET board-ya know, that whole Teenager Angle.
Until then, I have packing and shipping plans to preoccupy me, at least for a short time. And the Dark Knight. I will take comfort in the fact that I'm crazy enough to spend a year alone in Japan, but I'm not yet crazy enough to put on a bat suit and fight psychotic clowns.
PS: I am putting together a Powerpoint, which is actually pretty enjoyable. I'm contrasting Wisconsin with Kagawa, my college town with Mitoyo. However, some of the more "nuanced" aspects of American culture I'm having a hard time articulating, especially in my limited Japanese. I mean, how in the world do you explain Ren Faires?
"Um, people dress up in really tight bodices and linen shirts with hose. They talk in accents that are kinda-sorta-accurate. And pretend they're living in the Renissance. Except it's usually not placed in Italy. Usually it's in England and Scotland, which were still kinda stuck in the Middle Ages even in 1423. But they call it a Ren Faire. Except this one has belly dancers. Oh! And giant turkey legs."
It starts to feel a little strange. I hear announcements on the radio about how such-and-such fair, or play, or movie is coming out on such-and-such a date, and my immediate reaction is," Cool I want to see that, what am I doing on.... Oh yeah." I'm emerging onto a whole new social scene. As the Planning For Japan comes to a grinding halt, I am filled with a kind of nervous void, because I have no idea what to expect once actually landed. I have no expectations with which to plan around. So planning, which had become a way to venting my anxiety, has finally at long last failed me.
My planning always involved a touch of paranoia. Everyone on the boards of course says the same: "chill out, just come in with good intentions and be open to new experiences and you'll do fine," but I feel myself wanting to play the indignant teenager-screw you, you can't understand what I'm going through, you were never a first year JET, blah blah. I mean, honestly, my logical brain knows that the road to hell is paved with unrealistic expectations and that "it takes more muscles to frown than smile" is an annoying but necessary mantra, but come on, chill out? I'm moving to a small town in a foreign country with two suitcases, $2,000 (that's 211,640 Y for the folks playing at home), and an apartment that might, hopefully, be clean, though my predecessor said he's applied at least three loads of bleach to it.
But hey, I'm chill. I'm cool. I can fight every natural urge in my nature to form some kind of expectation about what the next year of my life 'll be like. A-okay Skipper.
Thankfully, I did finally get my contract, and it clarified what had been predicted: I am in Mitoyo City, which is to a city what a hybrid is to a car: has the same general appearance but is distinctively different in the gears. Mitoyo was created by combining 7 smaller villages, and it is in one of those villages I am actually situated. I am teaching at two middle schools, and a handful of elementary schools whenever they feel. I have an apartment with a bed, a TV, a fridge, a cooking stove, and a bicycle. I may not have Internet for months, and I may get my underwear stolen if I leave it to dry outside, but overall, the living seems suitable. And functional. I like em functional.
Though it may be selfish to admit, the thought that 2,000 are going through the same turmoil as I am somewhere in the globe is not comforting. But maybe it will be in Chicago, and then Tokyo. I'm looking forward to sharing my frenzy with people other than the posters on the JET board-ya know, that whole Teenager Angle.
Until then, I have packing and shipping plans to preoccupy me, at least for a short time. And the Dark Knight. I will take comfort in the fact that I'm crazy enough to spend a year alone in Japan, but I'm not yet crazy enough to put on a bat suit and fight psychotic clowns.
PS: I am putting together a Powerpoint, which is actually pretty enjoyable. I'm contrasting Wisconsin with Kagawa, my college town with Mitoyo. However, some of the more "nuanced" aspects of American culture I'm having a hard time articulating, especially in my limited Japanese. I mean, how in the world do you explain Ren Faires?
"Um, people dress up in really tight bodices and linen shirts with hose. They talk in accents that are kinda-sorta-accurate. And pretend they're living in the Renissance. Except it's usually not placed in Italy. Usually it's in England and Scotland, which were still kinda stuck in the Middle Ages even in 1423. But they call it a Ren Faire. Except this one has belly dancers. Oh! And giant turkey legs."
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