また 会う 日 まで (Until We Meet Again)

In less than a week I will be leaving Japan, and it’s hard to explain how truly difficult this is for me.  In total, I’ve lived in Japan for 5 years.  I’ve lived in Kumamoto for 4 years, longer than I’ve lived in any other one place since graduating college.  I’ve met so many amazing people in Japan, and they have become like family to me.  I might be an American, but Kumamoto and Japan are truly my home.

When I moved here, I made a very dangerous prayer.  I told God, “I know that I will be here for a short time, but I pray that when I leave, I will be sad to go and other people will be sad to see me leave.”  God definitely answered that prayer.  At times it feels like my heart is being ripped apart: part of my heart staying with the people I care about in Japan and part going back to America with me.  As hard as this is for me, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  This painful separation means that I truly shared my heart with others and them with me.

I know that my transition back to the U.S. will be challenging and difficult at times.  Sometimes I’ll cry because I miss my friends and Japan so much.  Other times I’ll get so frustrated with American culture and manners that I’ll probably scream.  Of course, I’ll have lots of stories to share about my experiences here too.  I apologize in advance to my family and friends in the U.S. for having to watch this emotional roller coaster and for my occasional outbursts, but please be patient with me through this process.

As one chapter of my life comes to an end and another begins, I’m holding on to one of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from my time in Japan—to persevere through the challenging times.  One of my favorite Japanese words is 頑張る　(がんばる, pronounced ganbaru).  It means to persevere.  Often I hear people using a form of this word to say, “I’ll do my best.” or “I’ll persevere.”  My students, co-workers, and I often say this when we face challenges or difficult situations.  People also use it to say, “Good luck!”  “Fight!”  “You can do it!”  We use it to encourage one another to keep trying, to show our support, or let someone know that we believe in them.  After the Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, all of Japan united in telling the survivors, “がんばって！”  I’m not entirely sure where the road ahead will take me; in fact, I have lots of questions about my future.  But, I do know that God will be with me every step of the way.  頑張ります!  (I’ll do my best and persevere!)

A picture from my last day at Kyushu Gakuin

 

A Reversal of Roles

Imagine giving a speech to over a thousand people.  Everyone is watching your every move and listening intently to each word.  Now imagine doing it in a foreign language.  Soon I will be giving farewell speeches to my students, co-workers, and church members.  To say that I am nervous is an understatement because Japanese has always been very difficult for me. 

I want to do my best because I think of my farewell speeches as goodbye presents to the people who I’ve grown to care about most.  My Japanese teacher helped me prepare the speeches, so I want to give a big “Arigatougozaimasu” to Fukuoka Sensei. 

Recently, I had an idea that could help with the speech-making process.  I had the privilege of coaching two of my students for an English speech recitation contest this year, and they were amazing!  They worked really hard and improved a lot.  English was a foreign language for them, so they understand the difficulties of the task ahead of me.  I laid down my pride and insecurities and asked them to become my speech coaches.

Hanako and Ren, my speech coaches

With our busy schedules, we could only practice together a couple times, but they taught me a lot.  Apparently, in Japan, when people are nervous about giving speeches, they imagine the audience as vegetables.  There’s nothing scary about vegetables, right?  As Ren put it, “We are potatoes.  Relax!”  Every time I remember her advice, it makes me smile.  Thank you for the memories, Ren and Hanako.  I’m so glad that I could teach you and that you could teach me too.

Please pray for peace and ease for me as I give speeches in Japanese.  I pray that I can be a blessing to those listening to my speeches, just like they have been blessings to me.  On a side note, I am trying to avoid thinking about the fact that farewell speeches actually mean that I'm leaving and saying goodbye.  If I think about that part of the situation too much, I might cry during my speeches.  So, I'm also praying for strength during an emotionally difficult time.