My unhappiness here spurred an onslaught of generosity and helpful suggestions and offerings of hope and support that I will be forever grateful for. I have no doubt that it's normal to feel lost and drifting when one has been living as an over sized square peg in a round hole for well over a year.

My brother was right. It's probably silly to imagine that the grass is any greener in Canada, especially from what I hear about the weather this year-- there isn't any grass to be seen! But it's not necessarily that I feel that life would be any easier or any more interesting in Canada. I'm craving a sense of fitting in. Being special is fine, for a while, but it gets old. And I just haven't gotten used to some things, like being reprimanded by those closest to me for eating too much, and constantly being told that I should diet. I suppose if I came home again, it might not be a forever-thing. I'm still not 100% sure what I want to do for work, or how I'm going to go about it, although living and working here has certainly given me a sense of perspective that I never had before.

In many ways, Carol hit the nail on the head by suggesting that I may have accomplished what I set out to accomplish by coming here. My original motivations were to see whether or not I was cut out for teaching, and to experience the Japanese culture in a more intimate way than my short home stays 13 years ago allowed. I've stayed long enough now to have completed a full cycle; already in the grocery stores I'm recognizing things that greeted me a year ago, when they were new and confusing; the packets of soybeans that are to be tossed out your door for Setsubun (February 3rd) and oni (devil) masks that the children wear to frighten the bad demons away, the racks and racks of chocolate-making kits for girls to use to impress their boyfriends on Valentine's Day. The commercials on TV have gently shifted from the warm cup-o-soup in snowy Hokkaido type, to the slow approach of the bursting cherry-blossom spring type. I feel like I've completed a circle. And could it possibly be any better the second time through? I'm reminded of a camping trip I went on with my friends from the OUC student union during my 3rd year in university. It was the Easter long-weekend, and it was absolutely magical, everything about it. The warmth and comfort we felt from each other's friendships, the brightness of the stars, the music that came so beautifully from some guy's guitar and heart. It was so wonderful, we decided to do it again the next year, after our graduations had commenced. But everything had changed. The relationships had shifted and divided; different people were included, others didn't return. The weather was cold. There was a nasty undercurrent of discontent and fear as we all faced our uncertain futures. I can't try to recreate the newness and amazement I felt a year ago. I could certainly go on trying new things and seeing new places in Japan, but I would do it with a kind of confidence that takes the sparkle off of an adventure. Not that I regret a moment of gaining this confidence and ease of living, but I do recognize it as a marker of sorts.

Thank so much to Shona and Ash for your suggestions and observations. Having lived here yourselves, you know that it isn't always a bed of tsubaki, and that the best way to keep going is to keep going, seeing, trying, experiencing. In fact, I've booked a day trip to Dogo Onsen for this coming Friday, as that was one of the MUST DO things I still hadn't done. My coworker Melissa and I are discussing getting tickets for the next Sumo Basho (tournament) in Osaka in March. I'm not giving up, and I'm not stopping until the moment I leave, that's for certain. I did consider transferring to another school or working for another company for a change of pace, but I do like the sense of home and family I've found in Tokushima; Bubu's family in particular has been a rock-solid foundation for me, and there's been nothing better for my homesickness than going into Bubu's shop for a pep-talk. "Hmmm," he observed last week, "homesick makes you like strange! You forget how to live in Japan!" He does his best to lift me up, suggest what to do and where to go, and of course gives me the usual unwelcome advice about diet and exercise. I have re-applied for my visa, but foolishly only applied for the one-year extension; at the time, I didn't consider that getting the three-year visa would open things up for me should I decide to return in the near future. But for now, the one extra year feels like more than enough.

Oh yes, I do have gypsy-toes, Lady K, and like I said before, there is no way to be absolutely sure that where I land next will be where I stay. But that's true for anyone. I won't be leaving here right away; as Bubu said to me, the most important part of anything is the ending. He actually used some Japanese analogy about ducks in a pond swimming and swimming and making the pond mucky, and the pond becoming clear when the ducks leave... I kind of get it. But-- am I the ducks? Or the pond? Or the force which draws the ducks away from the pond so that the pond can become clear? Or do I only become clear once the 'ducks' leave my 'pond'? Anyway, to wrap things up gracefully and well, I'll need a little bit of time. The cheapest flights are early March (too soon); the next cheapest are in early June, so those will be the ones I'm looking at. A nicer time to travel anyway, as I'd like to make a few international pit-stops on my journey home. And sure, Jess and Ryan, I'll look in to making my final plane land in Victoria. But I don't like ham.

What can I say that hasn't been said? I miss the sense of fitting in, of belonging and being that comes with knowing your home, and your home knowing you. I miss my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, and the friends that have become family to me over the years; I know who you are now, because you have been the ones whose hearts have been closest to me while I have been all these miles away. There's something to be said for distance in terms of sorting the rice from the chaff. Or the wax from the dross. Or whatever you will.

The final words come from a very recent email from my good and talented friend, Tyson Reilly.

"...the experiences and memories will be carried in your heart, and I know will be expressed through your unbelievable talents. This is what you need to take with you, and leave the stress and longing behind. Go with what your heart says, and you can make no mistake. Life is about moving on, especially when you are not happy. Do not settle, do not sell yourself short because YOU DESERVE THE BEST!! The best of life, the best of love, the best of happiness. I know very well how hard it can be to leave some place like that, I take it as a bungee jump: close my eyes and let myself go. Yeah, the rushing wind and earth growing below me is scary as hell, but I will only kiss the river and walk into a new world, perhaps test waters I haven't tested yet. But I like looking forward to new experiences, and always wonder what is in store for me. Discovery is the excitement of life... in a nutshell, I know you miss home, and I have a feeling home misses you. I know I do."


Namaste

Endrene