Repercussions of my Vacation
After a week back in Japan, I feel my passion against being here fading. Maui warmth and Hood River outdoor play stoked my anger at Tsuruta, land of nothing to do. In America, the company of friends, good conversation and gossip whispered through giggles
fulfilled social needs. Each day spent in the United States fueled my desire to stay in America. By the end of my stay, descriptions of life in Japan became venemous.
"It's ok in Japan. A good experience," I told curious friends during my first week in America. Immersed in socialization and exercise, and sunbathing for a couple of weeks, I wasn't so generous. "It sucks there. People aren't friendly, there's no place to meet anyone, the skiing sucks and there's nothing else to do outdoors, it's f-ing cold, and I'm sick of being subjected to racism, fear, and condescension," I complained.
"It's only four more months," my friends consoled. "Yeah, four months of deathly boredom," I sulked while drinking Hawaiian coffee, 75 cents a cup compared to almost three dollars a cup in Japan. "Well, it will look great on your resume," they optimistically declared, ending the discussion with a final swig of lukewarm coffee.
Since returning, my anger has faded. Unable to escape, unwilling to quit out of loyalty to Hood River, I can only accept my choice. Grey skies, sapping my will to do anything, dull my annoyance at the lack of venues for socialization. Cold imprisons me indoors, despite 4.0 winds battering whitecaps on the Sea of Japan. Downloaded movies play on my television while I do dozens of sit-ups. I have no target for anger but myself for choosing to be here, and that target is off limits.
Time passes, and I count down the number of weeks left here. 14 weeks and 4.5 days as I write this.
