September 29, 2005
What have I done?!?! I want to be one of those people who seizes opportunities, travels the world, and is comfortable doing such things. I’m torn between the desire to be different and interesting and the desire to have a safe and secure existence. It seems that as I get older, not that 30 is old, I’m drawn to the security of my condo, my bed, my paycheck, and most of all, to my windsurfing. Despite that, I’m somehow sitting in a hotel in Narita, listening to the clamor of Japanese businessmen enjoying happy hour. I thought that when I climbed on the plane, my anxiety about this journey would melt away, to be replaced by a blissful acceptance of whatever would come. I was wrong. Settling into my seat on the plane brought nothing but a panic attack and a deluge of tears, which were kindly ignored by my seatmate. It was only through sheer force of will that I didn’t scream and run off the plane to curl in a corner somewhere, accepting forever the fact that I’m not the sort of person who wanders randomly about the world.
So here I am in Japan, struggling to accept that I’ve committed myself to this 10-month expedition. 10 months doesn’t seem so long – it’s less than a year, after all. In terms of finishing a year of school or not windsurfing or seeing my friends, however, it seems like forever. 300 days. 7200 hours. Winter, real winter. My blood freezes when I think about it.
It’s only seven in the evening, and already it’s dark. Tomorrow I head further north, where the days will be even shorter.
I really want to look at the bright side of this trip, but I’m not seeing it now. Everywhere I look is something that I see in a negative light: Oh, the Japanese dialect where I’m headed is unintelligible even to the Japanese? The snow buries the doors in winter? You can’t have the kerosene heat on at night for fear of carbon monoxide poisoning? Hey, CM poisoning sounds like a good idea right now!
At least, as a very last resort, I can use my frequent flier miles to get myself out of here and back to Maui.
Waiting at the Portland airport, I heard the boarding call for flight 39 to Maui. I almost cried thinking that I was getting on the wrong plane. And then, in the customs line at Narita, I saw a Jamaican guy with an ABC Store bag. Homesickness has struck, and it’s struck for Hawaii, a place I don’t even think of as home.
Who am I? What the fuck do I want to do with this life that’s been given to me? I know that my life is only what I make of it – the only greater purpose is whatever I choose to have as my purpose. I just can’t stand being poor any longer, and I don’t want to continue the endless drudgery of the kitchen. So here I am in Japan, trying to shake up my life enough that some direction becomes clear to me. And I’m struggling. Oh am I struggling.
