Never in my life I had a dream of living here, or even just coming here. But here I am now, in this country full of whatever you imagine: astounding gardens, anime world, games, hi-tech tools, young people’s suicides, Kabuki, geisha, sumo wrestling, depressing haircut, love hotels, J-Pop, J-Rock, women in leopard prints, line ups in front of LV outlets, H&M, and other clothing lines… whatever you imagine. Mine has been Bunraku, Noh, Kabuki, sashimi, probably that’s all.
I’m in Japan. And I’m not a good adapter. I have been so lazy for so many months. I had no clue of what to do, or what I wanted to do, and I still don’t.
I’m probably living someone else’ dream. Living here where you can see Kimura Takuya and his fellows in SMAP everywhere: on TV, magazines, posters, stations. Or hear these J-Pop songs being played in izakayas, bookstores, clothing stores. Songs that I’ll never be able to distinguish one from another.
But now that I’m here, I have to go on and live day by day and try to thank for every breath and every chance I have. Still studying the language, begin to apply for job, doing daily chores as a housewife. Still adjusting the life, somehow. It’s a big, big change for me. Everything. New home, new status, new husband, new country, new language, new culture. I’m glad that I have nice people surround me.
Matthew is still the white Irish boy contemplates on many things, criticizes on many things, questions many things. Jason is still the sweet boy who will probably not be able to get angry to anything. Cheryl is still cheerful, as always, and sometimes gets headache, and is the best Japanese speaking non-native-speaker. Sigi is my mentor, beside my husband. A girl comes from the same motherland, married to a native Japanese man, she shares whatever she learns and knows and tries to abridge between my lack of knowledge and the society. They paint my days.