Eyes to the Sky
Being in transit it my favorite time.

I define �in transit� as being between one place and another, experiencing the true potential of transitioning between a nostalgic past and a shining future. Though I know that it could be said metaphorically that all life is like that, it�s easier for me to phrase it in the context of all chunks. This whole year here in Japan has been spent �in transit,� and it�s given me the chance to really appreciate the experience without finding it too mundane.

On my own time, I�ve been able, do some concrete self-examination outside of the context of my normal existence. But now what was once a strange perspective has become my proper context and I�m terrified of going back.

When I return, I will be the proverbial Emperor with New Clothes. No one but me will be able to see the splendor with which I�ve returned, so eventually I�ll be labeled an egotistical freak or easier yet, return the chronic inferiority of being �not that� anything. I�m not that smart, I�m not that pretty, I�m not that skilled, I�m not that creative, I�m not that tall, I�m not that fit, etc. etc. Here in Japan I am a spectacle in a land of spectacles. My very existence grants me acknowledgement, though not always in a positive light.

In a film I watched with anthro class, an African American living in Japan was quoted as saying �By never accepting you as Japanese, Japan truly allows you to be yourself.� By that, he means that Japan has absolutely no expectations of the foreigner� none based on race or social standing and certainly no expectations of linguistic or cultural understanding. Foreigners are all the same in that they�re all gaijin, �outsiders,� no matter where they come from. The Japanese think we cannot penetrate the world that is Japan� and maybe they are right.

I think there�s a lot of truth in the statement that Japan allows one to be him or herself. By having so little expected of me, I earned a lot of praise for my adaptability and gained great self-confidence through experience and support.

I�ve learned to stop clinging to every detail in order to try and make the perfect plan and discovered that I can let go what can�t be helped. Most of all, I�ve learned that I can�t see the future and the best way to enjoy myself is just to go with the flow.

When I first came here, I spent every extra minute studying to cram words into my head. This was partially out of necessity but mostly out of the panic that if I DIDN�T, then I wouldn�t be able to do anything here. When I finally gave up trying so hard, I realized that I still accomplished just as much, if not more.

I know people, however, who clung to silly self-imposed limitations until the very end and didn�t enjoy much, if any, of their time here. Tokyo has changed them, much as it has changed me, for better or for worse.

When it comes down to it, however, *I* am the one who changed me. It took some pushing from the outside for me to stop worrying about certain things but when I did, it was because I decided to. I decided to stop gnawing away at myself from the inside. I decided that a fulfilled life could, indeed, be a quiet life. I decided to stop being a drama queen. I decided to stop trying to be things that I�m not.

In return, I received a greater sense of support and camaraderie than I�ve ever had from any group of people before. Though the exchange students were a stressed and somewhat cliquey bunch, there were many who would talk openly about anything, and many more who would listen if anyone needed an ear.

My host family contributed by far the greatest amount to the sense of security I gained in Tokyo through their helpfulness and praise. I�m leaving a home where I receive, if anything, too many proud compliments and going back to a life where I rarely, if ever, get any positive support. I�m tired of having to prove myself to teachers, peers and others who act like they either don�t care or like what I�m doing isn�t good enough.

Before I came to Tokyo, I thought that I could have nothing but a future filled with dry obligation and misery. (You know, living by example�) But now I see that isn�t true. I believe I can accomplish what I put my mind to� and furthermore, that I�m worthy of the praise I receive.

I said at the beginning that if I could learn to survive Tokyo I could survive anything, and I�ll say it again now. I have triumphed in this city and in myself. My stay in Japan, due in part to my neurotic preparations and in full to the kindness and (over)generosity of my host family, has far exceeded any expectations I had for its own experiential wholeness.

I am leaving Japan a new woman and carrying the valuable conviction that taking this exchange was indubitably the best decision I have ever made for my own life.

For what it has given me, Tokyo has become the first place I can truly call �home� since I left Michigan almost eight years ago. Today I leave Home but take with me the memory and the hope that what confidence I gain will not be so easily shattered by my re-entry as I fear it may.

Sayonnara, Tokyo.