The other night when I was at the My Small Town High School's Class of 1991's 20th Reunion, a lot of people asked me what I'm doing now. I told them I am a school counselor at My Small Town High School. A lot of people asked me if that was weird, and I explained No, there's so much construction that it doesn't look like the same school. And it doesn't. Plus, I really think my perspective, having literally been in their shoes, helps me to better serve my students.
What I didn't tell anyone at the reunion, is that I lived in Japan for three years after graduating from college. I lived there from 1998-1999 with a boyfriend who was a naval officer attached to a destroyer (that story I'm saving for another post), and then I returned from 2001-2003. I'm really proud of myself that I didn't start spouting off about Japan... as Dad says, I am so much more than my time in Japan... however, that time truly shaped me. I worked for Berlitz, which is a language school with locations all over the world. The teachers based at our school all taught English, including myself, however when students came to learn other languages, traveling teachers would come to our school to give lessons in French, Italian (he was sexy-- and very married), Spanish, German, Chinese, etc. I always marveled at the conversations which took place in the teachers' room. Everyone spoke English and Japanese, with their own language sprinkled in, and everyone understood each other! It was a wonderful experience, and I don't know if I'll ever have the opportunity to be employed in such a multicultural environment again. Which is ironic, since Japan is a monocultural society. Even the English teachers were all from different places around the globe-- I worked with a Canadian, a few Australians, a Kiwi, and a cantankerous old Englishman named Peter (Pet-uh!). There were a couple of other Americans who worked there as well, but we were all from different parts of the country.
I was living in Japan on September 11, 2001. I had been there for about a month and a half, and at the precise moment our country lost its innocence, I was at a pub not far from work called Mattarri's, which is where the gaigin (foreigners) hung out. I heard someone say something about airplanes and terrorists and I remember saying, "What?" and then leaving to take the train home because I had to teach an early lesson the next day. I didn't turn on my computer... it was late and I just went to bed. In the morning, I turned on my laptop, and saw one of my friends on Yahoo. The chat went as follows:
Hi Marisa! What's up?
Jen... you DON'T know. The twin towers are gone.
What? WHAT?
Go to cnn.com.
Which is what I did, and then I promptly called my parents. It was such a strange experience. I walked around in kind of a daze. I remember being in a drugstore, and these obachans (old ladies) looking at me, saying Taihen! (Difficult.) I had these pink sunglasses which I wore all the time, because I felt like people wouldn't know I was American if I wore them. I felt so exposed, and alone. There were no English language newspapers available in Fujisawa, the city where I lived, for weeks, because they would be sold out before I could get to a newsstand each day. I gleaned what I could from news websites, but I was careful with what I put into my brain. I went through 9/11 so much differently than my friends and family at home, and I still think to some extent, there's a disconnect. Almost immediately, jets began flying overhead in their flight pattern as they trained. It was almost comforting, if you can consider the roar of an F-18 comforting. The training was constant... and then 2 months later... all went quiet. After the constant noise, the silence was deafening. Very eerie. And then we started bombing Afghanistan.
I hadn't intended this post to be all about 9/11, but that was a very prevalent part of my Japanese experience in 2001. I can't believe it's been 10 years.
About a week later, went to Mattarri's again with my friend Tanya, a tiny brunette Canadian from Alberta who actually turned kind of mean when she drank too much, but with whom I was friends all the same. I went to the bar to order our drinks, and found myself standing next to a tall, good-looking Caucasian guy. I looked up and greeted him, and he did the same. It's really rare for gaigin to associate with others who aren't their friends. I don't know why. That's just the rules. So when we spoke... well... I was shocked and pleasantly surprised! I went back to the table and pointed him out to Tanya, He's CUTE! I don't remember Tanya's response, but me being the me I was ten years ago, found myself walking over and plunking myself down in the booth he was sharing with his friend. I engaged him in conversation, and within 30 seconds realized I was talking to a fool. But I couldn't extract myself gracefully.... his friend was staring at me... full-on, no-holds-barred, staring. When the tall guy got up (I can't remember his name anymore), I looked at his friend and asked, What?
Nothing.
SOMEthing.
I still remember the three of us running to catch the last trains that night. I looked at "Pierre" before I took the stairs down to my platform and laughed, Call me! His roommate looked at me and said, I will, but you gave him your number!
I told you he wasn't too swift. Pierre told me that he looked at his roommate, hit him on the back of the head, and grouched, She was talking to me, Idiot.
That was the start of one of the most important relationships of my life. "Pierre" and I went on our first date the following Tuesday, and we were engaged six months later. I now wear that ring on my right hand. It's a luminous pearl with two tiny diamonds on each side, and it was purchased at Mikimoto, which is a famous pearl jeweler in Japan, although you can find Mikimoto stores all over the world. Pierre was French-Canadian, and taught English for another nearby language school. The guy who had been cute but a total box of rocks was his roommate. Obviously, Pierre and I never got married. At the time we got engaged, I was in love with the idea of being in love, and we both had the same goal-- to go to graduate school and then get jobs in our respective fields. We accomplished those goals, but our lives took us in two different directions after school. He went to work for a Canadian government agency, and I came home to Florida to find a job. I had tried to find a counseling job in Canada, which is where we went to graduate school, but my alien status definitely worked against me. That said, I totally understand employing your own country's people before looking at a potential immigrant.
I'd like to say it was just life that took us in different directions, but the other part of the equation is that I didn't like who I became around Pierre. He was very smart, and I enjoyed our talks about current affairs, but... on the flip side... we did a lot of venting... to each other. I felt like I was very negative around him. After venting, I would say, You know, we shouldn't talk like this. We should stop being so negative. He would reply that it was good to vent. But I felt like it was more like excessive complaining. Eventually we grew apart, and then yeah, life took us in different directions. We stayed together for another five months after I came to Florida, not enjoying a long-distance relationship but not wanting to do what needed to be done... but eventually we had the courage to call it quits for good.
Now when I meet someone I pay attention to the way they talk about their family members and life in general. I don't have room in my life for excessive negativity. Everyone has a bad day once in a while, but I truly believe that what you put out in the universe comes back to you ten-fold-- or more. As for me, I'll always remember the period of my life when I was learning French... in Japan.
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