Security Blanket

I find myself unprepared for complete immersion in a foreign (to me) society. I don't really think anyone can be truly prepared until they have experienced it. The feelings that follow are not original, almost everyone that expatriates must at some point undergo a transition similar to this, but they are new feelings to me, and those are what I came to find, so I'll expound. I thought I was ready for it, have thought that for a long time – yesterday I found myself wondering if I was. There are so many little things that no one, and I mean NO ONE, can realize they will miss until they're gone. Like that movie with Chris Rock and Anthony Hopkins that I flipped to and couldn't understand the dubbed dialogue or even the title, which escapes me to my horror (wifi aided edit: Bad Company). Although I have spent the better part of the last 6 years complaining about the utter consumerization of American life, it occurred to me today while I was watching Japanese commercials interrupting some Japanese gameshow that understanding the language and writing in something so mundane (and in many cases, evil) as commercials is very comforting. This is, of course, symptomatic of the larger, all-encompassing issue of my (near) complete illiteracy in the society in which I now live, but it stands up as its own anathema. Even though I generally hate most of what is being said, I took for granted my ability to comprehend it and even form an opinion. Which is not to say I have not formed opinions about the clips I see on Japanese TV, because I love them, but I might not feel the same way if I had any idea what they were saying. It is more comfort than you might know simply to understand the things you hear and read at every given point during your day, even if you choose to ignore them or, as in my cynical position, dislike them. I did learn that Waterworld will be playing sometime soon on the same channel as the Chris Rock movie. Wish I knew when to tune in.

Every day of training I actually feel more comfortable with the material, and I'm getting used to the workday. I'm less tired every day – in the morning and after work at night. It's midnight right now and I'm still alive and awake enough to write this, whereas last night I took a nap at 10:30 and turned it in to a sleep when I woke again briefly at 11. But my brain feels a bit muddled. Even now I am having a terrible time trying to remember some word that I love to use that I want to use, which I will hopefully scrounge up from one willing source or another when I arrive on the interweb in a matter of minutes. Before I continue, let me say my discomfort, like this brain fart, is not consuming me, nor will it last forever (edit: ANECDOTE). Don't read too much in to this and go getting worried or sad, because there's no cause here for either. But it's worth documenting, for you and for me.

And fear not, for I am enjoying myself more and more by the day here and learning how to exist here, but there is a general unease, for lack of a better word, that now travels with me as I go about my business. Everything I do now requires exponentially more energy in the form of concentration (and for my training in the form of energy) than it has for many years. I tried to go grocery shopping yesterday, and I did make it home with enough food to last me the rest of my week here in Okayama, but even that was a challenge. Everything has pictures or little windows allowing the shopper to see what they're considering turning in to their dinner, but the array is so vastly different than what I'm used to, and something else new has dawned on me: during grocery shopping we often rely on details printed on the package to make our decisions between products with slightly different features. Are these eggs fertilized or un-? I hope un-. Safer not to buy. Is this particular fish safe to eat raw? Better not guess. I came home with a package of shiitake mushrooms (must've misunderstood something; they cost twice what I thought I read), a frozen pack of pre-made gyoza, a chicken breast, some lemonade (lightly sparkling, to my surprise), a just-add-water curry, and some instant rice. Very tasty stuff, to be sure, but I was rather daunted by their acquisition. When I laugh at myself now, which I do many times a day, it's as if I'm laughing that I thought I could handle this gracefully. When in Japan, do as the Japanese do, and the Japanese are definitely laughing. I find myself clinging to the bubble of familiarity that is my co-trainees (and roommates, currently) and even my trainers. It is the only place I feel truly comfortable right now, and it will disperse itself at the conclusion of this Saturday evening.