The time has come to say goodbye

Earlier this year my husband applied for a new job. As usual, I encouraged him as he went through the interview process. It was a long, drawn out process, but he was finally offered the position. This new job is located in Austin Texas - meaning it is time for us to leave Japan.

After living in Tokyo for the past 5 years, I find myself flooded with conflicting emotions. I have loved so much of our time here. We have lived and experienced as much as we could. I will never look back on this time and say I wish we had done more. I have said more than once - if you are bored in Tokyo, it is your own fault. This city is had endless options to keep people's attention and interest. Yet, a part of me has always wanted to be back in the US. Living as an outsider is exhausting and being so far from loved ones is VERY challenging. Although I missed home pre-covid, it was nothing compared to the the past 3 years of isolation and distance.

As I reflect on our time here, I am most grateful to the people who embraced our family. From the park moms who took me into their group, to the neighbors who gave me the connection and friendship I desperately needed, to the helpful individuals that made life easier, to the work friends I encountered and cherished. Just thinking of all these special individuals has me tear up. There were so many times that I felt like I was at the end of my rope, only to find myself rescued by a kind person. There were the moms that gave me a listening ear and a reality check. There were the English-speaking parents at my kid's school who let me know what was going on when I didn't have a translator. There was the farming family that gave me hope, inspiration, and so many vegetables! The list goes on and on.

Our house is a flurry of activity today. The movers are here to pack away our memories, cherished possessions, and the tools of our life. I've spent weeks sorting what goes with us on the airplane, what is shipped with the movers (which takes 3 months, by the way), and what gets left behind (either with friends or the garbage gods). It is a stressful day, in part, because it is the end of an incredible chapter in our lives. So much of me is excited to see what is in store for us in Austin - a city I've never been to. But a huge part of me is sad to leave a place that is so incredibly special to me.

I have loved learning more about Japan. I've delved into the world of how to make traditional Japanese ingredients, like miso and ponzu, that will forever bless my table. I taken a stab at several traditional Japanese crafts, like sashiko, that were fun and amusing. Our family has thoroughly enjoyed attending events, like summer festivals, and exploring the area beyond the common known haunts.

We have explored and tried and seen and done so much here. It has been truly incredible. Of course, these past three years have been a lot of time spent at home. But, pre-COVID, we tried to cease all opportunities for having fun. From magical winter light displays to awesome summer fireworks to flower fields that captured our hearts to autumn-colors that made us stop in our tracks. We delighted in visiting shrines and temples. Devouring incredible food that were incredible for our eyes, noses, and mouths were taken to a new level. The views of both cityscapes and nature are incredible here. I am so glad to have this blog as a reminder of all the fun we've had (and even some of the not so fun parts).

I recognize that I am a different person than the person who arrived here 5 years ago. I have changed because my life experience has allowed me to grow in a way that I wouldn't have been able to if I stayed put in Seattle. Living in a foreign country has opened my eyes to so many things I was never aware of before. I'm still the hard-headed, opinionated, passionate woman I've always been. But now I have a different level of patience, tolerance, and understanding. (Of course these are not always obvious, as those levels are not infinite amounts!). I even feel like I understand my husband a little bit better because I have seen his homeland in a way much more familiar that just a visit here and there.

No one really knows what the future holds. I hope it will consist of many more adventures and experiences that bond us as a family and make us stronger individuals. May our future be filled with lots more laughter and really good food and friends that make our worst days seem bearable, no matter where we are in the world.

A real dish

My husband rarely agrees to get dinner delivered. Pretty much anytime I bring up getting something delivered, he offers to cook instead or we just go out. But the other night it was raining, and we had spent the day in our pajamas, and I didn’t have anything planned, and…. Well, I just wanted to order delivery!

After a short debate, he finally relented and agreed to order from a family owned Chinese place we have been meaning to check out, but have never gotten around to actually visiting. We just happened to have a menu in the stack of never used delivery menus and coupons. So he called and ordered a few of our family’s preferred dishes to be brought to our door.

Less than a half an hour later, our doorbell rang, announcing the food had arrived. My husband immediately jumped up and alerted the delivery person we were coming using the video doorbell system. Then he asked for me to give him a hand. I looked at him quizzically, but followed to help get everything from the door to the dining table.

Behind the door was a delivery person holding a large metal box, called an okamochi. I’ve seen these boxes many times over the years, typically hanging on the back of a motorcycle with a stabilization system so the food doesn't shift. I knew they were used for food delivery. But I’ve never had one bring me any food. They slid the door to the box up, revealing the food inside, and began handing four plates to my husband.

My son has a miniature okamochi in his play food set.

As my husband passed the first two plates over to me, I exclaimed “These are REAL dishes!”

My husband turned and looked at me like I was an idiot. As eloquently as he could muster, he replied “Duh.”

“But what do we do with the dishes?” was my next question.

“We leave them by the door and someone comes to pick them up later.”

Talk about service!!! I have never, ever, heard of such a thing!

I continued to fuss as he paid for our food (cash, of course) and thanked the delivery person for his service. Once settled at the table, he told me that getting delivery served on dishes was totally normal for him. When he was growing up, all restaurants delivered food on actual dishes. Only recently, specifically with Covid and the introduction of companies like UberEats, have take-out containers become more typical. But, for many small restaurants that have their own delivery people, delivery on real dishes is still the norm.

Dinner was absolutely delicious. We are so excited to find more yummy food in our neighborhood. And, hopefully, my husband will relent to my requests for delivery a bit more knowing this restaurant checks so many boxes for us.

After we ate, I rinsed the plates and put them outside our front door and they were gone before noon the next day - just like room service in a hotel.

Despite the fact that I constantly complain about the wastefulness in this country, there is a small league of traditionalists that don’t leave you with a pile of garbage after a meal - just four small pieces of plastic wrap that covered each plate. These people (and their businesses) have my full support, especially since it means that I’ll be supporting a second type of business that I like to give my money to - family owned, small businesses.

Working 9 to 5

Last year I went out and got myself a job. This definitely wasn't my first job! I've had many jobs throughout my life. I started, as many people do, working in retail to pay for my various wants and saving for a rainy day while in high school. In college, I worked a variety of jobs to pay the bills. Immediately after college, I taught English in Japan. Then I moved into the corporate world.

I worked for a huge company for 11 years. There were good parts and... challenging... aspects as I worked my way up the corporate ladder. I got to be part of a team and I learned a lot about myself and my potential. I was really good at my job (if I do say so myself) and I felt a level of satisfaction from my successes.

But, after I had my son, my priorities changed. Suddenly, I wasn't interested in "playing the game" anymore. I simply wanted to do my job and then rush home to spend as much time with my son as I could. Being a working mom is incredibly difficult! The balancing act is intense and never seems to even out.

Just a few days shy of my son's second birthday, I quit my job. I walked away from a regular paycheck, a regular schedule, and everything I had worked so hard to achieve (in the corporate world).

Over the past 6 years, I have rarely missed any part of working beyond the paycheck and the friends. I have had an incredibly wonderful time being a stay-at-home mom. Of course, it wasn't an easy profession either! The balancing act of working outside the home is extremely different than the balancing act of the stay-at-home parent, but it is still there and intense! I must say, I never had to deal with crying meltdowns on trains when I worked in an office.

In Japan, it is still the norm for women to leave their jobs when they have kids to stay at home at least until they start school. The percentage of stay-at-home parents that I personally know is much higher in Japan than it was in the US.

When my son started elementary school, COVID-19 had just arrived on the shores of Japan. We were officially in a pandemic. During the first 6 weeks, I homeschooled my son. Then, he headed into the classroom. And I was all alone. Well, my husband was upstairs working in the office we set up for him in our bedroom, but I'd only see small glimpses of him when he'd refill his tea cup or come down for lunch. My reality was me feeling more isolated than ever.

Since moving to Japan, I have often felt lonely. Between physical distance, language barriers, and what-have-you, it is really hard to form tight bonds when you live in a foreign country. Although I've always had my boys, they are definitely not girlfriends! Only seeing loved ones through a screen has been incredibly challenging for my heart and soul.

After a LOT of prompting from a friend, I applied for a job as a relief teacher at an international school (meaning: the classes are taught in English and use a European teaching philosophy). This way, I could be around other English speaking people (people who know what it is like living abroad), but still be master of my own schedule. I was worried that I wouldn't be hired because I had been out of the workforce for 6 years AND I sometimes needed to have a day off because I needed to be with my son. Even with all my "what ifs" and so forth, it didn't matter. They needed teachers and I needed something to do. In the end, my experience and enthusiasm earned me a position and I was quickly put to work.

Since starting, I have taught kids between kindergarten and eighth grade. I've helped kids with reading and math and art. I have met so many friendly faces and found a new source of joy. Whenever I leave a classroom, I am refueled in a way I haven't been in a very long time. I have reconnected with a side of me that I desperately missed, and didn't even know it. Being in this particular environment has been so important to my mental health.

I was recently explaining to someone that teaching is extremely selfish for me. All of my reasons for showing up are about me. I am there to be a part of the community. I teach because I like feeling like I am helping people. I gain so much by being a part of something where the sole purpose is encouraging others to succeed. In this particular sea of people, I feel like I belong and I am wanted. And more often than not, I get to spend my day hearing kids laugh and get excited about things.

For the longest time, I was really unsure about getting a new job. I had so many reasons to not do it. But in the end, it has been a really good thing.

It has been 2 years - Osaka, Kobe, Awaji (part 3 of 3)

Before heading off Awaji Island, we made a couple stops.

First we swung by an old favorite - Takosenbei no Sato. My husband and I have visited this senbei (cracker) factory every time we have visited this island! We love the crackers from here. Unfortunately they weren't making any crackers while we were there, but we still got to buy a ton to take home!

Next, we found a (new to us) shrine. Izanagi Shrine houses the two Gods, Izanagi-no-mikoto and Izanami-no-mikoto, that are connected with the formation of Japan. Folklore explains that Awaji Island was the first landmass created by the Gods. Two Gods came down from heaven and stirred the seas with a spear. When they lifted the spear out of the sea, drips fell from the tip and created the islands. Although the island is referred to as Onogoro in religious texts, scholars have declared Onogoro is Awaji Island.

Izanagi Shrine is the oldest shrine in Japan. People say it was built on the site where Izanagi and Izanami lived after becoming mortals. Shrine visitors pray for harmonious marriages and relationships as well as safe childbirth.

On the shrine grounds, there was a section of roof that allowed us to get an up close view of the fascinating thatched roofs commonly found on shrine buildings. They are meticulously assembled with small pieces of bark from Japanese cypress trees. Gifted professionals shape intricate designs into the peaks. The roofs last about 60 years and are fully replaced when needed (no patching). People rarely get an up close view of these, so I was appreciative of them putting it on display.

It was time for us to slowly head back to Osaka. But before we trekked all the way back, we made a pit stop to see Kobe's Chinatown. This locale holds a special place in my heart, as it is where my husband and I had our very first date. We tried to buy hum bow at his beloved Shi Koh Roh, but it was closed for a new year holiday! It was very upsetting as these are our favorite hum bow in the world! We refused to let it get us down and headed over to the main street of Chinatown to dine on street food from various vendors while regaling our son with tales of our first date.

All too soon, our short getaway came to an end. We returned the car and boarded the Shinkansen to head back to Tokyo. All was well, until suddenly an announcement came over the loudspeaker on the train. It was snowing in Tokyo and our train would be delayed getting into the station because it needed to slow down a bit due to the weather. With big eyes, my son tried to hold back his cheers. His wish for snow was coming to fruition! Snow in Tokyo!

It might have been a bit more hassle coming home in the snow, but we didn't mind one bit as it brought such joy to our son. It was a great way to end our trip, like the cherry on top of a sundae (or carrot on the snowman's face) that we waited 2 years to enjoy.

It has been 2 years - Osaka, Kobe, Awaji (part 2 of 3)

We woke early in order to enjoy breakfast in the hotel restaurant on the 12th floor. Eating our meal (which included several Osaka specialties like takoyaki) while enjoying the view of Osaka Castle was a great start to the day.

After a lovely breakfast, we drove to Kobe to Glicopia - the factory that makes Pocky and Pretz, two very famous snacks. My husband was able to get us reservations for the factory/museum tour. We learned a bit about the history of the company (which originated as a caramel company that added oyster concentrate into its confections for a little bit of nutrition) and saw the machines that make Pocky and Pretz. We also got the make virtual snacks in their virtual bakery. I did see a kitchen that I assume is currently closed due to Covid, but might otherwise offer classes to make your own treats.

I've been to the Glico factory before. Even though the tours are all in Japanese, it is fun to see everything. The signs above the factory viewing windows have English, allowing me to learn about what various machines do.

For lunch, we decided to enjoy an Akashi region treat called Akashiyaki. It looks like takoyaki, and even contains octopus, but is definitely a different dish. Using a batter made of eggs, flour, starch, and dashi stock, the balls are cooked in the same pan as takoyaki with a chunk of octopus in each one. The balls are light and fluffy, with a very soft, but fully cooked, center. It is served on a wooden platform and either dipped in a dashi broth or with a dab of sauce (similar to a bbq sauce). Akashiyaki is very tender, and we ripped more than one with our chopsticks. The advantage to this is letting out some of the steam, as they are served very hot. The simple dish is delectable. My whole family enjoyed it.

All too soon, we were back on the road, heading across the longest suspension bridge in the world. Akashi Kaikyo Bridge spans 1,991 meters (6,532.2 feet). It is a beautiful bridge taking people from Kobe to Awaji Island (called Awajishima). Shortly after arriving on the island, there is a rest stop (called a Highway Oasis) that is perfect for photographs. Japanese rest stops are amazing little places with restaurants, shopping, and CLEAN bathrooms.

Up next on the agenda was a fukimodoshi or party noisemaker factory! This fun stop had us making our own noisemakers. These fun devices are 90% made by hand - even in the factory. So, it was a lot of fun assembling them ourselves. After paying a small fee (400 for children and 800 for adults), we chose the materials to make 6 noisemakers each. After curling the paper and attaching it to the mouthpiece, we went outside where we tested one of our wares and were even taught a couple tricks.

Since we had time, we swung by the Hanshin-Awaji earthquake museum. This museum focuses on what happened during the January 17, 1995 earthquake that rocked the island, Kobe, and surrounding areas resulting in the deaths of over 5,000 people. Our son was quite shocked to see the real examples of shifted earth and structures resulting from the earthquake. While this isn't a "must see" on many people's list of things to do, I do think it is important to understand what an earthquake can do when residing in an area where earthquakes are commonplace. (And let me tell you, they happen ALL THE TIME here!)

Finally, we headed to my husband's family's timeshare on the island. We bathed in the onsen and enjoyed an incredible dinner.

Then, we called it goodnight because we were all exhausted.


To be continued...