Last Month in 高山: June 30, 2010

What I won't miss about Japan:  one specific school lunch, which features the small, beady-eyed fish, disguised as bean sprouts, topped with fish flavored fish flakes.  There is a "school policy" that everyone must eat all of their lunch, I assume because it would be disrespectful to poorer countries if we wasted such things.  Therefore, there's no way around not eating this, other than sneaking a tissue into your pocket before entering the room and then stealthily mashing it all up, with the intention of disposing it at a later juncture (attempted once, failed once).

So as I carefully strategize how much rice I can eat and milk I can drink to try to subdue the full-blown fish flavor, I begin talking to the fifth grader that is sitting at my table.  She asks if I have a girlfriend and I say,  "yes."
Then she asks if I'm married and I say, "no."
Her friend becomes interested and asks "why not?"
I then try to explain to them that I'm, "not quite ready," in so many words.
Then they ask my age and when I say, "twenty seven," the disbelief that washes over their faces is comical.  They can't believe that I am currently choosing to not get married.  I think this social norm has more to do with living in a relatively closed off country side than anything else, however when I step back and look outside my immediate bubble, I see something intriguing.

Two friends from college in the States have just gotten married (citation: Facebook) and now that adds up to seven friends that I've known since high school that have since tied the knot.  Now this may not seem so strange to some people, but it definitely creates an out-of-body levitation experience that is new to this guy.

The rate of people around me getting married isn't really what interests me, however, it's more the idea that the students I spoke with, couldn't believe that I didn't want to marry.  Apparently it's a given that around here, you get married right out of college (if you even get to college) or even before that.  And if you make it past my age without doing so, as a woman for example, then you may want to pack it in and start selling your fairy tale dreams to someone else.  Either way, today provided another revelation that proves  parts of home (Colorado country side) and areas of Takayama really aren't as far apart as they seem.

I won't miss the fish-flavored fish bean sprouts... but enlightening conversations with eleven year old's in another language will be a tall order come this time next month.

Last Month in 高山: June 29, 2010

Today we had the Japanese Junior High school version of a pep rally.  It was fascinating.  I've become so accustomed to the military-like procedures of hundreds of students yelling, chanting and repeating in unison, the straight arms tucked tightly by their sides, the perfection demanded from the teachers and the consistent, unquestioning acceptance of most cultural norms.

I don't mean to cast a negative spell onto the culture in which I observe and live, however, when I recall where I come from, I find it interesting as hell that I have pulled away from the initial wide-eyed, gawking stairs that I once gave only three years ago.

While that initial challenge of fending for myself in a new and strange culture was difficult, it was also simple.  I had the wind at my back.  My worldly innocence was virginal.  And now, with this experience, I can't help but feel a new pressure bubbling within as adulthood slithers it's way through these dark, invisible corridors of future expectations...

And now I find myself as a row-boat, casting away into an infinitely massive, eerily frightening and yet seemingly conquerable ocean,  and still all I can do is marvel at the beautiful beach from which I'm departing.