See you later

It's Japan, after all. Where maple-flavored coffee is too cloying, and the cutting board salesman apologizes that the board is made of mere American wood instead of high-class Japanese wood. How am I supposed to respond to that? I never know which direction to point my patriotisms. Having two of them gets really confusing sometimes. 

It's Japan, where even the great mountains give way to rain from Typhoon 12 that stayed and stayed and stayed. More than a year's worth of rain in a few days.  Over 100 dead, a few thousand stranded. Several rivers are dammed with landslides. The scenes are so similar to the tsunami destruction that my heart doesn't know how to process it all. Worst damage in about a quarter century. The horror of it largely bypassed the Northeast (thank You Papa!!) and then hit Hokkaido with floods and crop damage. It's a rough year when both the quakes and the storms act up. 

It's Japan, where I find myself still trying to keep my hair flat. Its tamest look is curlier than most. 

Ever since the quake, the Tokyo area went into power conservation mode. It's Japan, where the public easily follows mass directives, and Tokyo manages to keep power usage at about 75% of the max capacity to prevent rolling blackouts. 

It's Japan, where the Shiba-Ken dog goes nuts begging for a bite of my breakfast of natto (fermented soybeans in the stringy stage) and raw egg mixed with hot rice. He whined so much this morning that he got two bites instead of one. 

Where my heart feels treasured when people see me off Japanese style, standing outside and waving until I disappear from view. Thanks hometown friends, Iwaki friends, Hayashi-san and Abe-san, and Andrea and Melody. 

I've said goodbye to this country before. But there's more for me here. This time, I said what the Japanese say as they head out the door: "I will go and come."

I'm on the way to Narita Airport. Time to switch gears to American mode for a while. 

One question puzzles me. 

How am I going to get used to neighborhood roads that are actually wider than an American driveway?

I'm gonna miss this place.