A Fond Farewell

One of things that I'm realizing, the longer I live in a foreign country, is that saying goodbye to friends is a part of life here that never seems to get any easier. And everyone, it seems, leaves at some point.

People go home for a lot of reasons, all of them legitimate in one way or another. Regardless of how much people love the experience of living abroad, more often than not a yearning to be home eventually starts brewing inside.

I'm in a bit of a unique position here compared to a lot of my foreign friends, in that I'm married to a Japanese woman. For one thing, a lot of my friends are single, and finding and marrying a Japanese person is not on their agenda. They are here for the personal growth that comes with living in a foreign land. At some point though they want to resume the lives they put on hold and left behind in whatever country they came from. As wonderful as it is to experience living in a foreign country on your own, there's a pretty powerful loneliness that comes with that territory. While it's tolerable, and even refreshing for a time, because that solitude is a voluntary condition, people justifiably grow tired of it.

Another thing that makes my life here in Japan much easier than a lot of people I know is that my wife is Japanese. I have an inside track into this country that many of my friends lack. This is beneficial of course in the sense that I might start to understand the culture better, but the biggest difference is in terms of not being able to speak Japanese fluently. When my friends have to go to the doctor, or the city hall, or receive a package while they aren't home and have to call the delivery service, and a whole slew of other everyday things, in many cases they have to ask a Japanese person to go with them or make the phone call. I dealt with this frequently before moving here to Kanazawa, when my Japanese was even worse than it is now, and Chieko and I were living a good distance away from each other. The Japanese people are always totally gracious and happy to help, but again, the lack of self sufficiency and the need to rely on other people for seemingly ordinary tasks also takes a toll. You learn to take great pleasure in doing things as simple as mailing a package at the post office all by yourself. The long drawn out point here being that my lovely Japanese wife often takes care of these things for me. That's a big old double edged sword though, as my reliance on her certainly retards my own motivation to be self sufficient here.

Anyway, I'm way off topic and all introspective because today Chieko and I said goodbye to some very close friends who have, as you may have gathered, moved back to the U.S. as of this morning.

I met Kent and Hyun Joo about 5 years ago in graduate school. Chieko and Hyun Joo were house mates (along with about 10 other girls). Kent was secretly in love with Hyun Joo, I was secretly in love with Chieko, so we ended up bumping into each other quite a bit at various gatherings at the girls' house. Once we graduated, we all eventually made our way to Japan.

Kent and Hyun Joo are two of the coolest, most selfless people I have ever had the pleasure of calling friends. Not only are they just plain awesome people to hang out with, but Chieko and I both owe them a lot of thanks for how much they have helped and supported us the last few years.

When I first got to Japan, Hyun Joo was kind/tolerant enough to allow both Chieko and me to shack up in her apartment for a few MONTHS. Not a few days, or a few weeks, but months. Hyun Joo has been a great friend to us both, and as much as I will miss having her around and giving/taking shit to/from each other, Chieko is the one who is suffering the most in her absence. She was a great friend to Chieko, and when she said 'I love you' to Hyun Joo at the airport this morning, I know she meant it.

I owe Kent as much. He has been there for me every step of the way since I've come to Japan. Whether he was putting on a happy face while teaching me how to use my external hard drive for the umpteenth time, or brushing off the fact that I had finally broken is kite after repeatedly nose diving it directly into the ground, or teaching me the word cloaca, he is a true friend.

It was with heavy, but happy hearts that Chieko and I said goodbye to our friends this morning after driving them to the airport. Heavy because there won't be any more kite flying or shit talking, but happy because they are happy. As much as it sucks to see them go, they are doing something new and exciting, and it's time for them to do that.

So Kent and Hyun Joo, who are somewhere high over the Pacific as I write this, safe travels and good luck. We are very much looking forward to hearing how your adventure unfolds. See you soon. (I'm going to go cry in the bathroom now so Chieko doesn't see me ;-)