Final thoughts on leaving.

I am preparing to start a new life. It may be temporary, it may be well-extended, but regardless of the long term effects, things are changing quickly in the here and now. I won't be sleeping in the same bed anymore. I won't be living under the roof of a house that has sheltered me for at least 10 years of my life. I'm leaving behind my friends, family, and country, bracing myself for a trip that seems more unpredictable than anything else I've tried to prepare for in my entire life.

Words like adventure, culture, isolation, shock and party come to my mind when I try to imagine it. My father said to me today: "don't be surprised if Japan isn't everything you imagined it to be. You've been building up your expectations and working on a goal for a long time, so it's easy to be disappointed." I have always believed in applying Murphy's Law - "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong" - to best counter disillusionment and disappointment. In other words, I have tried to keep my hopes and dreams from shooting wildly out of control. This perspective is more beneficial than it may sound on the surface, as it brings about all sorts of fun bonuses, not the least of which is when you are pleasantly surprised when a lot of things go your way, or even exceed your greater expectations. I have confidence in myself to do the best I can do through even the worst of times, and as trite and cliché as that may seem, I think the real key to this game is 90% mental. If I am able to bring a suitable level of cool-headedness, reservation, patience and respect into my demeanor, I believe I can thrive regardless of my surroundings.

Change isn't easy. Change is, however, exciting. Change isn't always desirable, but without it our lives seem stagnant and dull. Much like the technology we rely on, we seek quicker refresh speeds and newer, faster addictions to consume and subsequently quit. Change can seem especially imperative to the post generation-X, light emission addicts of the 00's. We are a new generation of adults, who watch shows like The Office not just for their wit and humor, but also for the acerbic and succinct way that parody and satire reflect real world problems of crushing technological oppression within the human domain, of devastating views of repressed expression through the paradox of political correctness, and an overall lack of the ability to communicate with one another, and what dire consequences this inability can lead up to. I'm not saying technology is the devil, but it's emblematic of our seeming desire to put proxy after proxy between ourselves and everything else, perhaps for protection or safety, or perhaps just to make ourselves more ambiguous and numb to the world around us.

There is a point to all this: I have always been one for speaking my mind completely, barring necessary discretion. I believe in telling it like it is, speaking first then thinking later, unless the person on the receiving end seems like they will be unable to handle "the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." Sometimes I get this vibe from my audience and unload anyway, knowing full well that directness will only repel said person from me. Sometimes, to be characteristically frank, this is preferable. Most of the time however, I like to be as civil as possible, and in recent years have worked on my mannerisms to try and curb this habit without compromising my own individuality. Translation: I can act this way around friends, and in very casual settings, but not the rest of the time. Unfortunately, in Japan I know most of the my life will take place in the latter, not the former. So, I will have to be on my guard and tone myself down, making every effort to stay my personality and be a little more accessible. Most of all, I'll try not to step on any toes, rub anyone the wrong way, or burn any bridges. Wishful thinking? We'll see.

To put this aspect of my personality into the bigger picture, here's some information you may or may not know: The Japanese are a people of subtlety, ambiguity and mutability. Their very language is rife with implication and indirectness, and as a result of this and many other unnameable cultural forces, the Japanese have a really roundabout way of speaking. Directly saying "no" to something is almost always extremely rude (as I know from my two years of schooling in Japanese during college), and something more along the lines of "umm, well...", "not quite...", "that's a little..." etc. are all in active, popular practice. What does this say about the culture? More relavent still, what does this say about how I, a bumbling foot-in-mouth tangential New Yorker will do in trying to exist within this cultural framework? What inevitable slip-ups, mis-communications and accidental acts of impoliteness await me? How much do I have to keep my guard up, and can I ever possibly explain through the exercise of teaching to even one student how to properly express themselves in field so volatile and kinetic as the English language? Tune in next week to find out. Literally.

My impression of Japanese culture, regardless of the college I attended and the commendable professors who taught it to me, is nonetheless built on second-hand information. I must go forth to form my own opinions, and find my way in this new world. My bags are semi-packed, my laptop full of quality films like "Airplane," "Shaun of the Dead" and "The Host," and my spirit ready and willing.

A new epoch of Belcher awaits me. My parents have been so supportive of me in this decision that it's incredible, and I'd like to take a moment to thank them here. Without those two, this would be a heck of a lot harder, if not impossible. I'm getting ready to say goodbye to home, but I've been quite high strung as of late. I honestly feel like I won't be able to relax until I'm on a plane, somewhere over the Atlantic, en route to an archipelago that I expect to rejuvinate my life. A place where I can reinvent myself. Or maybe, just maybe, perhaps, possibly, I can still just be me, and I will make some new friends who can accept me that way.




End Prologue.

Countdown to Departure: 52 hours.




Thinking back to when you were a lost and lonely kid, a look back at the tragic and the damage that it did. Still waiting for the day it all just goes away. That's who you are, don't hide the scar. Now you know the reason why you feel so full of hate, throw a stone I'm sure you'll hit someone who can relate, and now you know the reason for the way you are, but you're still wanting to believe that you can cover up the scar..." - h20