“So much for the working address of the blog.”

So much has happened in the past month or so, it seems absurd to try and summarize.

The entire month of May got sucked down by preparation for The Return. Suddenly stricken with the notion that we might be seeing people for what would be the last time, our social calendar swelled to bursting. We made it to a Ring Side Horfars show. We spent Golden Week discovering some local delights—like Ryotanji, ancient zen temple, only a twenty minute walk from the apartment. We ate matcha ice almost every day. The last two weeks, I think we ate out almost every night—and not just because we gave our fridge to Daggu-chan a week before we moved out. We also had a six-day visit from Tim’s folks, which proved interesting, not only for the break it provided as we hit tourist spots we had not been to before, but because I think for the first time, there was a sense of familiarity, of things fitting into our historical understanding of Japan. The little introduction to the Sengoku Jidai I was reading made visiting Ginkakuji and Nijo-jo and seeing the Aoi Matsuri that much more fun. It was also a matter of creative exploration, too, I suppose—I wanted every detail to stick in my mind, every breath of the atmosphere.

We made it to Shigaraki, too, and unfortunately did not pick up a good-sized tanuki for our future yard/doorstep. I regret this. Testicles are underappreciated here, especially oversized lucky ones. We did, however, supplement our ceramic plate collection, as well as replace our nice teapot—the lid was a casualty during moving, and though we superglued it back together, the two pots we found to replace it are quite nice.

I think we have found our collector’s niche. Teapots and, possibly, teacups. Tea accessories apart from cha-no-yu things, well, I suppose I will know the yes or no of that if someone gets us something truly bizarre. For the first time ever, we both found ourselves obsessed with making sure we picked up things we’ve been talking about getting for ages. Cramming four years’ worth of wants into a week is not really recommended, as it makes repacking hell.

We are so grateful to everyone for your hospitality and kindness. Whether it was taking off with furniture that we could not possibly have (wanted to) ship back, or treating us to dinner, or giving us farewell gifts that boggle the mind, helping to move stuff, hanging out so we could be sane, or throwing us goodbye parties (including some of the funniest karaoke I have ever witnessed/been a part of… )

Since we have been back, jet lag and reverse culture shock has been the norm. We have mostly defeated jet lag, but I sense we will be trying to adapt for some time to the US. In Japan, we could limit our intake of US news, and give vent to frustration and anger every so often. Here, just flipping on the television makes daily ranting the norm. It really is disheartening. Most frustrating is just not knowing how to begin to try to make a difference in the face of such corruption. BUT, and this goes especially to Rafael, but to all of us who are overwhelmed , frustrated, and angry with our country’s ridiculous policies and terrible politics—the challenge still stands—whenever it is that we all meet face to face again, I hope that all of can say, “This is what I have been doing to affect change.”… instead of merely griping or expressing disgust or outrage. (That is too easy, eh?)

As I was telling Tim the other day, part of our return which is quite interesting to me is that we now live in a multi-generational household. Grandma has been living with my parents for several years (with occasional breaks where she goes to visit some of her other children), and my brother Tim and Carrie and in and out with little Eli, my one and only nephew. (Congratulations to the two of them, for surprising everyone by eloping this month!) Two days after our return, it was his second birthday, followed the day after by Grandma’s 80th. When everyone is here, that is four generations under one roof, and the dynamic is totally different from anything I have ever experienced before. We are busy making contact with loan people and have a realtor in Bloomington, looking for our own place, so we can move and get settled before school starts in August, and rather miss our own space with our own stuff, but while this time with everyone together lasts, I am trying to get a sense for it, get to know members of my family that I have never really known, new and old.

With that comes the amusing aside that most members of my immediate family seem to view our nearly four years in Japan as some sort of extended vacation, free from worry and responsibility and “real life.” I can’t argue with this, not because I agree, but because I find it so absurd as to be inarguable. I urge everyone I know to please, please, go live as an immigrant somewhere, and find how easy and fun it can be. All the time. Sure, there are new things to experience, because a whole environment is a wild departure from all that is familiar, and there are certainly interesting places to see, but… the whole world is like that. There are places dense in the arts and haute culture here, the same as there are spaces of nature, places of worship, and fields of growing things anywhere. They simply differ, and one must seek them out to appreciate them. Granted, here one is less likely to find anything over two hundred years old by simply turning a corner on the street—that is certainly something we miss—but it goes with the territory.

I think we will be shortly posting a whole lot of pictures and possibly video clips up, things that are from the last month or so. Brace yourselves.

There is so much more to say, so many more reactions to try and share, at this lull, this juncture of pathways and turning of pages.

I shall express one final thought. 飯道山, you win. All my bluster that I would master you. But you knew the whole time, and I think… I think that you do not care, one way or other. You never did.