Tomodachi/Kodomodachi

I haven't written about my time back home, nor the whole journey getting out of Fukushima. Leaving Japan from March to April was a tough decision for me, and I haven't quite achieved putting down on paper what I want to say. Coming back was a tough decision, too. I can't tell you how my family, friends and even perfect strangers were asking me if it was the right thing to do. In foreign circles within Japan, people like me were dubbed "flyjin." It's a pun on the word "gaijin," which is slang for "foreigner" in Japanese. Sure, I flew the coop. Then, I came back. No hard feelings, right?

I made the decision to come back. Why? I feel like I belong in my community, but I also know that I will always be on the outside looking in. That is, people were happy to have me back. Even my local cabbies and the taxi dispatcher were pleased I was back in town after such a long time. (And I don't think it's just because I give them relatively good business). It has also been nice seeing friends I haven't seen in ages, and who will soon be scattered across the world in their own hometowns post-JET. On the other hand, it took some of my students a few days to have things pick up where we left off. I'm sure they realized I bounced out of Japan when I didn't show up for work in early April. But I feel like we're OK now. They're starting to tell me all the junior high gossip again, and the first-years tell me how excited they are to be in junior high.

It also really brightened my day to meet the new six-year-olds at one of my elementary schools yesterday. It was their first time to meet with me, and I'm guessing the first time most of them have met a real "foreigner." All day, I could hear them saying: "The English teacher is here! The Englsih teacher is here! Gemma-sensei! HARRRRRO! HARRRO!" Adorable.

I'm also really touched by the text message replies that I've been getting back from some of my kids who have already graduated. I don't really like "talking about my flair," but I am absolutely ecstatic when I hear from them. A-chan, a girl who graduated two years ago, wrote me a massively long e-mail just this evening. She wants to meet up for purikura (ie. taking sticker pictures together in a photo booth.) Her twin sister also texts me, and says she's quite busy trying to find an after-school job. She's now a student with a friend of mine, A-sensei. T-kun, who I saw biking the other day and now sports a cool buzz cut, is always telling me to cop the latest RADWIMPS album. Rice ball-kun writes about playing tennis and still finding English lessons difficult, even though he can write perfectly. Y-kun, who graduated three years ago, but still finds the time to tell me about his home stay experience in Canada. S-chan, who graduated in March, got her younger sister to deliver a handwritten note penned on kawaii Minnie Mouse paper.

I could go on about the other kids in my life, but I should really stop talking about my flair. Overall, all these messages make me feel like I've somehow made a strong connection. It's funny how kids from six to 18 years old are some of the people I know best these days.

I'm gonna miss all of these rugrats.