The Era of Leaving, Which Too, Shall Pass.

I knew it would come.
I thought the knowledge of it coming would make it easier. I thought my having voluntarily left everything familiar to me and becoming familiar with meeting people in transit, knowing our relationships had expiration dates, would make it easier.
I thought my comfort with independence and trying new things would make it easier.

And maybe all those things have delayed it, but it's no longer easy.

When I moved to Japan I prepared myself for what I thought was the almost certain possibility that a few months in, I would feel a heavy loneliness and isolation from being in a place where I don't understand the language, and would have only nascent friendships with people who hadn't yet had a chance to get to know me at a level deeper than the surface.

This didn't come to pass. Maybe I'm more adaptable than I thought, maybe I'm better at distracting myself than I expected. Or maybe the visits I had from friends and family and video calls prevented it.

Still, the beginning of this year *was* marked by dissatisfaction with the strength of the connections I was developing. But as the year went on, I grew closer to my friends I made, and I began to feel that I had found my place and was settled in to a good community. I began to feel quite comfortable with the city, and connected socially. My social circles began merging as I introduced friends to friends. And the transient connections with those living temporarily in Tokyo that I thought would quickly fade, lasted.

Then those with whom I had developed strong friendships with, who I trusted, to whom I could tell everything and with whom I would lose track of time, began to reach the expiration dates of their stays in the country. Three dear friends in what felt like one fell swoop, but which was stretched over a few months, left Tokyo. And I saw what would continue to happen regularly as long as I lived as an expat.

But my time here is finite too, and all good things must come to an end.

I didn't want to bring this post to a close on a low note, nor without a real conclusion, so I left it as a draft for 9 months or so (*And published it today in September 2014). However, it is a record of a time in my life where I felt the need to express some melancholy and I don't want to complicate it by trying to derive some optimistic lesson. As always, life has its peaks and valleys, and this period was but a small bittersweet local minimum,

Because the world needs more honesty.

Today I found strength I wasn't sure I had and happiness in a potentially disappointing situation.

Perhaps this is a trivial situation, but it was an important moment for me.

I had this crush, on a friend. Who I met through a dating website, but with whom things were pretty platonic. I won't go into details, but I admired him for many reasons, and the more time we spent together the more I was endeared to him, and it didn't help that he is a very physical person, who liked to tease me.

When it comes to guys, it usually takes the perspective of another guy friend of mine to break me from losing myself in admiration for someone I like. I hold a lot of insecurity when I *really* start to like someone, and my days consist of constant reminders of that person. They hold an exorbitant amount of power over me, whether they realize it or not. I've become a bit more conscious and careful about this than I used to be, but I'm nowhere near where I want to be. I'm also notorious for being an overthinker, and I draw my friends into that thought process. Thankfully the best of them are able to pull me back to reality and be a mirror for me to see what I'm doing to myself.

So, returning to the recent crush situation, after asking the world for advice I was convinced that I had to tell my crush that I liked him. And if I were to scare him off as a friend temporarily, so be it. But our friendship is grounded enough despite only being a couple months old, that I wasn't worried that the quality of our friendship would suffer beyond temporary awkwardness. I planned to say something at the next opportunity that I could do so in person. But such an opportunity wasn't in the cards. In the course of a conversation with him over the internet, he mentioned to me that he was worried about something, but that he couldn't tell me what it was. Long story short, he was crushing on another girl, who I had met and found to be completely adorable and someone I admired right away as well. He asked me for advice, "you seem to be pretty insightful." Girl likes boy, girl wants to tell boy, boy tells girl about his feelings for another girl. For a second, before it was clear who the girl in question was, my mind fantasized that he was being vague and embarrassed because the girl he was crushing on was me. I blame rom-com plotlines.

But once I realized he was very clearly crushing on someone else, a wave of relief and strange satisfaction came over me. And I decided to tell him anyway. I told him that unfortunately he was asking advice of a person who felt the same way he felt about this girl, about him. But I wanted to give him advice anyway, and I told him he had to tell the girl how he felt, and passed on other advice I had been given when I was in agony over him. And I was/am genuinely happy that he felt this strongly for someone, and I hoped that she felt the same for him. Maybe part of this was me going into self-preservation mode, but it feels genuine. He was surprised and a little embarrassed at my revelation, but I assured him that there were other fish in the sea, and I valued his friendship.

What did I learn from this?
Well, 1. I learned the grade school lesson I can learn time and time again and not internalize, that it's better to be honest when you're interested in someone, because they may like you back --- Or maybe not ;). But staying in your head does no one any favors. I think Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev said it well:

"If your fear is about the non-existent, your fear is a hundred percent imaginary. If you’re suffering the non-existential, we call that insanity. So people may be in just socially accepted levels of insanity. But if you’re afraid, or if you’re suffering anything which does not exist, it amounts to insanity – doesn’t it?"

-I heard a snippet of this quote at the end of a song I was listening to by Midnight Smack, called Wisdom, and thought it was nicely relevant.

Further, personally, the longer I like someone and live in limbo not knowing their feelings, the more I torture myself and the more power I surrender to that person.

2. I learned that my capacity to be rejected and still want the best for the person rejecting me is intact, and that I can even be rejected and on the same night go on a run and have a rooftop dinner with said person and be happy, and hopeful.

[written for my aunt Mari and cousin Bryan]

Cabbage Patch Kid.

The best trips are often the ones that are spontaneous and made without expectations. My friend James, who is a [1st-author-Nature-published] Neuroscience researcher studying memory, recently told me that our greatest memories are often from things that are spontaneous, so you better believe it (he didn't get into the details though, so I can't do so either and you'll just have to do your own googling). A friend of mine here who is a fellow Minnesotan but has been living in Japan quite a while now, was telling me this weekend about his travels throughout Japan when he first moved here and how great it was to be surprised by the places he traveled to without making any real itinerary (anecdote proves the theory).

On Saturday, I had plans to go on a hike on Nokogiriyama ("Saw Mountain" in English) with an Outdoor Club.  Instead I woke up two hours late having sleepily ignored my alarm clock, and when I fully reached consciousness, decided to plan my own hike. I looked through my Day Walks Near Tokyo book that I inherited from my Aunt Linda and chose a route on Cape Tsurugi, about an hour and 45 minutes from my house, in Kanagawa prefecture on the Miura peninsula. On the way there, on the luxurious Keikyu Kurihama line train with all forward facing individual seats, I leisurely studied some Japanese from my Minna no Nihongo book (I swear I don't work for Amazon, I just don't want to take pictures of these things). The views on the ride there are quite beautiful as the sakura are now near full bloom and the train line runs by the ocean.

The problem with having a walking guidebook from 1993 is that a lot can happen in two decades...
So I couldn't find the true path the book was supposed to be leading me on to see 'spectacular crashing waves on the rocks by the lighthouse' (paraphrasing here), so after going back and forth twice I branched off and instead found ENDLESS CABBAGE PATCHES!
It was pretty exciting.

I don't actually know what these are.

Kinda looks like a country's outline right?

Inside the cave I found.

An outdoor playground that someone left for me knowing that I can't boulder for shit.

Bridge to nowhere...

Unfortunately my jumping skills have not reached video game level, so I had to turn around and find another route here.

Blue stone pathway

SO MANY CABBAGES.

SO organized.

In case you're not excited enough yet.

This would have been helpful if I could read Japanese.

What I did on my Saturday night instead of going out or studying Japanese as planned...

I've been dancing a lot lately. Someday I'll figure out how to make a living out of it, because I sure as hell don't love biostatistics more than dancing, but for now (and given my absolute lack of any real training post high school) it should probably remain a hobby.

Also, if you don't know these artists, 1) Purity Ring and 2) Nujabes, you should obviously go listen to all of their music right now. [The Purity Ring song is a cover but their original songs are fantastic.]

And finally, my latest obsession.  The fantastically beautiful dancer, takesomecrime. Amazing stuff. Can't stop smiling when I watch him.

How to end your Thai vacation with a bang (Don't actually do this.)

My recent trip to Thailand was planned quickly, and until the last 24 hours went off without a hitch. I won't get into much of it aside from the end; there are social networking photos and captions that accomplish that pretty well. Plus, I'd like to avoid glamorizing my trip as if no one else in the world takes vacations to beautiful southeast asian islands.

Let's skip to the final 28 hours - a long story as it is.
Leaving the coastal city of Ao Nang, I take a ferry to Phuket.  I planned to get one of Thailand's cheap and ubiquitously advertised massages, since I was plenty sore from rock-climbing the previous day and biking in the morning, and most places offer them for a steal of 200 baht (~$6). However, after disembarking from the ferry, chaos ensues, with a cluster of about 15 different shuttle drivers to different places (none fixed) and maybe 70 people trying to find with whom they're supposed to get their prepaid ride from the ferry landing to their next destination.  I tell a driver I'm going to the city center and a handsome but dirty-hippie-rock-climber dude from South Africa overhears and says he'll stick with me, since he's also going to the city center.  I smile, and we stand around talking for a little while waiting for the chaos to get sorted out.  After shuttle van roulette, we make it to the city center and wander a bit with our backpacks and matching cliche woven shoulder bags (essential gear for any world-traveler hippie wannabe). DHRC dude asks if I'm hungry and says he knows a good restaurant from his few days in Phuket at the beginning of his 4 week climbing trip. Delicious Thai food and beer are consumed.

DHRC dude and I part after he walks me to the bus terminal where he says I can catch a taxi. We don't exchange contact information, as was the case with everyone I met and whose company I enjoyed in Thailand. So many interesting people, none of whom I'll ever see again.

I begin walking toward the bus terminal and see no taxis, but instead a group of guys sitting around a table outside playing cards. One of them asks me where I'm trying to go, and I tell him the airport.  He asks if I want to go by motorbike and after telling me the time it would take, and cost, I hesitate, but look around and say "uhh...okay. Sure." He hands me a helmet and I get on the bike behind him and hold onto his waist. I'm a little surprised by how smooth the ride feels, and soon we speed up and after a while he begins weaving through traffic. Simultaneously I'm wincing and feeling excitement about the busy traffic and the city speeding past. The following thoughts go through my mind:

1. This is really unsafe.  You read on reddit that the most common way for tourists to get injured or die in Thailand is by riding motorbikes. 2. Yes, but they were talking about tourists who rent them themselves, this guy does this all the time. He probably knows how to maneuver the streets well and safely or he wouldn't be doing this... 3. Maybe I should be holding on to this guy tighter.  This is the absolute worst time for you to let your Minnesotan politeness come through, Rachel.  Yeah... but holding on tighter isn't going to do you much good if we crash anyway. 4. This is pretty cool.  The warm air rushing past, bright lights. I kind of like it, I'm sure we'll be fine. Would I be okay with it if I died right now?  Yeah, I've lived a pretty great life and I'm pretty fantastically fortunate (I actually thought this, as irrational as it might sound). 5. Well, if we might fall I should prepare for that possibility. It's bad if you tense up when you get in an accident, right?  Or maybe the opposite is true. Is it possible to roll like they do in the movies?

This stream of consciousness is interrupted by my driver seeming to realize he was losing control (perhaps due to a pothole, maybe some sand on the road), and make noises of surprise, while we swerve left and then right.  Quickly we're falling and the motorbike slides out from under us on its side. I yelp and when we stop and I stand up and see that I can walk.  Another couple motorbikes stop around us, and ask us if we're okay.  I'm standing there with my mouth open, momentarily speechless.  I check myself out, hardly believing what I had dispassionately mused about happening moments before, had actually happened. I tell them I think I'm okay, and then one of the motorbike drivers who stopped tells me he can take me the rest of the way to the airport. I slowly consent "only if you promise to drive carefully...." and then "please drive slowly?" with a pleading tone in my voice as we get on the bike.

I think of how stupid this decision too could turn out to be, and hope against hope that we can make it safely to the airport 10 more minutes away. This time I gripped the driver tightly, and wince any time we go over rough ground.  I straighten up in case I'm at all off balance, and lean away from the turns. We make it to the airport and the driver having noticed my sharp intakes of breath from time to time, asks me if I'm okay.  I nod, and say I am, so he leaves and I make my way into the airport. Walking through the airport I feel the eyes of everyone around me turn to see this girl in a jumper, with raw dirt covered legs and a bloody knee walking around looking for a sign for the first aid room.

Probably should've worn pants that day

A nurse looks surprised when I walk in and I explain what happened.  She cleans me up asking me if I'm traveling alone and if it's my first time in Thailand.  When I answer both questions with yes, her eyes turn down and she sucks in air in disapproval, but a caring disapproval.  "Ohh, you shouldn't travel alone, it's dangerous for women."  I nod, not really agreeing, and mention something about not taking motorbikes again.  And she looks at me with worry, but we laugh.  After she feeds me some glucose to combat the faintness I felt coming on, she instructs me on how to clean the rest of my leg, which she didn't have enough supplies for. I leave the office and find a place to sit and buy some anti-bacterial wipes; some fellow travelers help me to get some gauze, ointment and tape, and I wrap the rest of my leg.  Nothing hurts yet, but people tell me I'm probably in shock and will be in a lot of pain tomorrow.  I pass the time until my flight with a woman from Amsterdam who helped me cut my wrapping with a plastic food court knife, and we talk of love for biking, the ease of transportation she feels with her bike being the thing she misses most when she's gone from home. Finally the plane is boarding and I talk to a couple next to me who also had a motorbike accident, but which seems to be much worse than mine. They tell me they both had fevers and the woman had to stay in a hospital for a few days, where they saw person after person come in for the same reason.

Figure A

The next 24 hours consist of 3 flights and 10 hours in layovers (7 hours in Bangkok, which ended up being an incredibly inefficient needless leg, given how much closer Phuket and Kuala Lumpur are.  See figure A).  Sleeping off and on in airports and airplanes, rebandaging my makeshift attempt to bandage my upper leg at the Bangkok airport first aid, watching the filming of a movie at midnight, and what felt like the longest 10 minutes of my life on the flight from Kuala Lumpur before landing in Tokyo, just wanting to be home sleeping.

Moral of the story?  I don't really know, but I'd say my risk assessment skills in foreign countries should be a bit more conservative. Sure riding a motorbike isn't the craziest risk to take, and I know people who have done it for years while living in a foreign country. But it's not something I'd do again soon, and perhaps having known the ride would take 40 minutes (a good long time to allow for something to go wrong) and seeing that the driver had been sitting around playing cards, potentially drinking?, should have given me pause enough to find a car taxi. Still, what fun is life without risk? And hey, when things go wrong it only serves to humble me and waken my empathy for those dealing with health issues far more serious than my minor one. And for old people.  Because I now walk slower than all the old Japanese obaasans and ojiisans.

You live and you learn, and I'm doing plenty of learning lately.