Blur. . .

My days seem to run all together, swirling into a torrent of spinning images and flashing lights. I think I’ve been in Japan four full days now, but the days go by so quickly I’m unsure. The bus from Fukuoka was a breathtaking two-hour drive. The Japanese countryside is a lush mix of greens and yellows complimented by cloud formations that mimic freeze frame avalanches rolling down invisible blue grey mountains. Large Japanese farmhouses dot the countryside and flat valleys. Their fields full of rice ready to be harvested run right up on the homes stonewall fence. No space is wasted here. As the bus came closer and closer to Nagasaki the hills turned into sharper topped mountains of bamboo and evergreen forests interrupted by terraced hillside crops of mikkan (a Japanese tangerine). The first view of Nagasaki and its bayside harbor was like being back in Hawaii. My school also happens to be on one of the tallest hills in my area. So every classroom has a view to die for of the bay surrounded by sharp green hills.

Now begins the times of blurred memory. Orientation starts each day at the college with a 15-minute hike up the hill in the brilliant morning sun (our bus only goes to the bottom of the hill). However! The constant view and breeze make the heat and slight workout worth it. The entire campus is only three building, one of which is a clubhouse. Ever day when orientation lets out at five my two home stay “brothers” and I have an hour and a half walk home. This walk takes us through what I imagined big city Japan to look like. Huge neon happy suns on white billboards slurping up Raman stands above fresh fruit and vegetable markets, toy stores, and cell phone companies line the safety of the sidewalk. The streets are a chaotic mess of small people on motor scooters and in compact cars zooming about with no obvious rhyme or reason. Mixed into all of this are the perfectly kept personal gardens of Nagasaki’s residences. Each tree, shrub, and flower is trimmed and placed meticulously to be part of a greater picture that is elegant and simple.

My host family, the Sakimora family, speaks virtually no English. This tends to make communication very difficult when I speak virtually no Japanese. Thankfully, I have two host brothers, Daney and Chris, who speak enough Japanese to get us through. Even so, meals, which are the only time we really see our host parents, are a two hour joyous combination of laughter, great food, big smiles, broken Japanese, and colorful hand motions. I’d say we communicate mostly in a charades like game of chance. We’ve had tempura, sashimi, grilled fish, chicken and corn dumplings, and Champon [Nagasaki’s signature noodle dish. Created by the Chinese originally and adapted by the Japanese because Nagasaki was for many years the only open port of Japan.] All of which were delicious and leave me feeling clean and refreshed after dinner. While dinner has been perhaps the most stimulating part of my days thus far it leaves me exhausted, and with a lightheaded feeling like I imagine having my brain strapped into one of those electronic muscle stimulators would feel. Thus I retreat with my roommate Daney to our next door four room apartment. There we sit on tatami mat beds and talk about our goals for our time abroad and families back home. Then a quick cold shower to beat the night heat and I crash into my bed and sleep coverless through the warm Nagasaki nights.

This trip has been full of little moments that seem to inspire great levels of joy within me. The most noticeable thus far was today on our walk home. Close to the end of our walk a small Japanese boy started walking nervously beside us. He laughed at our size first, and then stayed about ten paces back. I unintentionally started to whistle a Radiohead song. The boy began to whistle along with me. I stopped, laughed, and then listened to what he was whistling. Then I started responding to his whistles by adding one note to his song. This continued and built into quite the complex line of whistles that lasted for around twenty minutes. Then at a fork in the road he started down the opposite side of the street. He turned and shouted, “SEE YA!” And, with a small wave he was gone and the moment was over. It just seemed to brighten up my day, and helped to take my mind off the heat.

This is truly a different world and I can’t wait to explore it more this weekend, and start taking pictures. I just bought batteries for my camera so I’ll post pictures soon.