The moon over Tokushima park glowed eerily orange; too dark to be reflected in the greasy nameless river that flowed quietly before us. Jenna and I had met up after work in downtown Tokushima. At a loss for what to do, we bought a couple of cans of Chu-hi and seated ourselves on a chilly park bench. Between us and the river ran an unremarkable path leading to the jungley dark mound of earth that Tokushima castle graced centuries ago. We drank and spoke quietly through the smoke of our breath and her Marlboro's. We surveyed the scene carefully; this wasted riverside, all paved and lawned and lovely with only the backs of factories turned to it. Natural beauty is seldom utilized in the cities; or if it is, it is sculptured and sequestered until it has become something else altogether.

Both of us are leaving soon; she is filled with anticipation and eagerness to get home to Scotland. I, on the other hand, am uncertain once again. As ready as I am for the next challenge, my next spurt in personal growth-- I am afraid of leaving this land of depth and magic, ridiculousness and futurism; this land of complete and unashamed dichotomies.

In Will Ferguson's Book, "Hokkaido Highway Blues" he speaks of the love-hate relationship that most expatriates have with Japan. Not one day love, the next day hate, but a little bit of love and awe and a little bit of antagonism and disgust in almost every daily situation. For me, the love has always been a little stronger than the hate-- it's been more like a love-mildannoyance relationship. Leaving is hard. I haven't told Bubu and his family yet that I don't plan to use the 'return' part of my ticket. They have become my family, and I'm not ready for the long goodbye.

Japan is the beautiful permanent growth in my heart; my blood will never flow clear of crushed fallen cherry blossoms and umeboshi juice. I imagine I'll be one of those annoying Japanophiles when I get home... 'in Japan, they do it like this. In Japan, they always do it that way. In Japan...' I suppose the best thing to do will be to travel a little more, to burnish off the edges of my own Canadian/Japanese dichotomy. But there is some resounding note that will always reverberate within me, and mark me as a lover of this culture and its people.

Even if they do think I'm fat.