I've been e-mailing one of my senpai this week, because he recently returned to Japan. He used to live in my city, too, so he gave me some quick updates of our mutual friends - mainly, my lovely ex-supervisor's family. I can't believe I've been away for almost a year.

Tacking "reverse culture shock" has been an interesting experience over the past year. It's really quite sad, but I'm not exactly quite over leaving Fuku. Don't get me wrong! Life in Japan wasn't always viewed through rose-coloured glasses, but here are some of things that I miss the most:

- The friendships made in Japan. I should really make a concerted effort to keep in touch. But I'm hoping that my good Fuku friends know I still care about 'em, even if my correspondence skills are a major fail. Last summer, some friends even organized a surprise party for me at my local beer hall because I would already be out of Japan by the time my actual birthday rolled around in August. (I also "celebrated" my birthday here in Ottawa. I invited my closest friends out for a dinner. Everyone was 40 minutes late. Maybe I was feeling self-centered and jet-lagged, but I felt it was a weak way to ring in my homecoming. On my actual birthday, I didn't want to talk about it. We were celebrating my cousin's engagement on an elegant rooftop patio in Toronto. SWAG. Wish I had that!)

- Iced coffee. People often grip that Japan doesn't have a good cup o' joe. But the country sure knows its iced coffee. When we had lessons at the community centre, I often quenched my thirst by drinking Georgia's iced "cafe au lait" in a can. I realized I was the lone person who drank that drink selection dry from the nearby vending machine. At the convenience stores, they sold delicious Mt. Rainier iced coffee in neat plastic cups. You puncture the aluminium top with a plastic straw. Oh, iced coffee... so bad, but so good.

- More beverages: Long island iced teas (and nomihoudai), oolong tea (iced or hot), umeshuu
- Festivals
- Wearing yukata

- Karaoke (Specifically any Montell Jordan track)

- School life

- Carrying wads of bills in my wallet 

- Trips to Tokyo for the weekend... just because 

- Karaage teishoku at the mom and pop's shop along R4 in Motomiya

- Riverside snack bar in Motomiya
- The Meiji Shrine

- Convenience stores stocked with anything and everything

- 100 yen stores (good enough to furnish my apartment!)
- Blaring Drake tracks from my old kei-car, Haruto
- Driving a kei-car

- Purikura
- Reasonably-priced tights in cool designs

- UNIQLO

- The views from skyscrapers in Tokyo (I don't like heights, but I do miss peering down at sprawling cityscapes)
- The smell of burning rice fields
- The cheerful "Harro, Gemma-sensei" greetings from my former kiddos
- My bedazzled purple keitai (That's a lie... that ghettomaphone still cost me more than $100 in final bills!)
- My taxi drivers
- The 21st of each month
- Highway express buses
- Buster the Maine Coon
- Tokyo Disneyland and Tokyo Disney Sea
- The hum of the cicadas
- Having students as my neighbours
- No tipping and high-quality customer service
- The vast selection of Nikes
- Sleepovers at Soph's old apartment (20 people in her tatami rooms? No big deal)
- Shinkansen rides
- Local trains
- Meeting up at Hachiko before partying in Shibuya
- Ageha nights
- Fake eyelashes from the Daiso
- Pooh-san novelties
- J-pop recommendations from students

I could go on, but this blog post is already quite emo and natsukashii!!

Homecoming 2011 -

A friend recently told me she enjoyed getting my e-mails from Japan, updating family and friends on my adventures at karaoke boxes, at school and so on. I rarely update this blog, despite having loads of anecdotes that I should write down somewhere. These days, Fuku is still very much an experience that sticks in my head every day. (Being funemployed gives you time to think about things.) Do I sound emo? It happens when I get all natsukashii about Fuku. On a daily basis, little things remind me about my old life. The other day, two of my former students started sending me tweets. Yesterday, little Hiroka sent me a text saying she got third place at her recent swimming competition. And I'm terrible at keeping touch by e-mail, but it's nice to check up on old friends through Facebook.

After 3/11, things were quite uncertain. Some people stayed. Some people left. It was an unprecedented situation, so people did what felt right for them. My parents were in the Philippines, and had initially made plans to visit me again in Japan on March 12. After lots of reflection (and talking with my cousin's Maine Coon, Buster), I called my boss and told him I would go back home for a bit with my parents. He expected me back after two weeks in time for the start of the April school year. Whoops. I don't guilty about leaving, since it wouldn't have been fair to my family and friends back home. I think a lot of us subconsciously knew we'd be heading voluntarily fleeing; if we were able to do so, we all chucked our passports into our bags. But I do feel pangs of "what-ifs."

I was one of the last ones to come back to return to Fuku. My JTE wrote me when she had time, updating me on school life and how her family was coping. During my lengthy absence, I got a few e-mails from my Fuku friends wondering when I'd be coming back. There were quite a few heated debates with my family when I was back in Canada, but they finally gave me their blessing to return at the end of April. I think that a lot of my friends here thought I was a little crazy for going back. But unless you live(d) in Fuku, it's difficult to describe the deep connection you have for the place. When I left in July, everything felt rushed and pretty surreal.


April 30 marked a year today that I hopped on my familiar Ottawa-Toronto-Narita flight. After a six-week stay in Canada/US, I finally made my way back home after 3/11. Upon my arrival, I checked into a Toyoko Inn near the Narita Airport since I didn't want to risk getting stranded at night as I made my way up to Tohoku. It's a good thing, too. The following day, I took a highway bus from the airport terminal to Koriyama. There were many delays, because roads were bumpier than usual and we had to make a detour through Iwaki since the main highway into Koriyama wasn't feasible at the time.

When I got back to my apartment, things looked messy but it was good to be home. I felt bad for my newspaper delivery person, because there was a stack of Daily Yomiuris set in a paper bag next to my door. (I guess they never received my e-mail to put a hold on subscription). Inside, my place looked as I had basically left it. Fortunately, I didn't have any rotting food left in my apartment since I had thrown everything out during my quick clean-up efforts in March, before I fled to my friends' apartments. Sesame oil still permeated the air, because a bottle had broken onto the kitchen rug during some aftershocks in my absence. And all the papers, books and knicknacks from my bookcases and closets were still scattered on the floor. When my Japanese father dropped by my apartment, his eyes grew wide at the mess. Whoops. I also begged him to help me get my upstairs neighbour's shower from leaking into my shower below. My car wasn't in its usual spot in the parking lot, because I had left it at Ben's when we fled to Aizu after hearing about the explosions at the nuclear complex. All in all, though, being back in my apartment was amazing.

It was Golden Week, so I didn't report to work until the Friday morning. I had no idea what to expect, especially since my base school had transferred to a makeshift home at the community centre. When I entered the "staff room," everyone looked a bit surprised but generally happy that I re-appeared. I'm guessing the BOE forgot to inform them about my return, because the vice principal called my new boss in a frenzy. ただいま！！

Some kids were able to approach me again like my absence was nothing. Others took a few dayss to warm up to me again, and whispered in the halls "Gemma-sensei ga..." (Ms. Gemma's here...) Some teachers came up to my small desk in the makeshift staff room, saying they were happy to see me again. The lovely rookie teacher tried to converse with me. Her ice-breaker? Making me try something that looked like dog poo, but she convinced me it was a delicious candy.

Still can't believe it's been a year.