The heat...
General update for the day...
Point the first. Japan is, in fact, "hotter than the devil's drawers." This is confirmed by the fact that in my first day and a half here, I have had to wear three outfits (and may be heading for my fourth in a minute or two) because I keep sweating through them. A ten-minute walk to lunch literally had my back drenched. It's about 80% humidity this close to the coast, and the sky is in a perpetual state of drizzling, downpouring, or threatening to. (It's rained at least four times that I can count since I first arrived, and that's not counting the times I didn't notice because I was inside.)
Point the second. I am homesick beyond all recognition. I'm alone in a strange country, where I can barely speak the language and almost nobody can speak mine, with little money to speak of and an unbelievably torturous climate and academic schedule ahead of me. There's a point at which "hey, it's an adventure" turns into "what the fuck am I doing this for?" I'm getting damn close to that point. I miss my family, I miss my friends, and hearing the President on TV is suddenly comforting because I actually understand what's going on. Meeting a handful of Americans today--the first I'd seen since I arrived--was a huge weight off my shoulders. But I still feel uncomfortable, broke, confused, and terribly alone. A letter I received from Joe (and the e-mail that followed it) have only added to it.
Point the third. I'm determined to stick this out. Maybe it'll take a week, but eventually the weather will break and my homesickness and jetlag will even out.
Point the fourth. I want to go home.
Point the first. Japan is, in fact, "hotter than the devil's drawers." This is confirmed by the fact that in my first day and a half here, I have had to wear three outfits (and may be heading for my fourth in a minute or two) because I keep sweating through them. A ten-minute walk to lunch literally had my back drenched. It's about 80% humidity this close to the coast, and the sky is in a perpetual state of drizzling, downpouring, or threatening to. (It's rained at least four times that I can count since I first arrived, and that's not counting the times I didn't notice because I was inside.)
Point the second. I am homesick beyond all recognition. I'm alone in a strange country, where I can barely speak the language and almost nobody can speak mine, with little money to speak of and an unbelievably torturous climate and academic schedule ahead of me. There's a point at which "hey, it's an adventure" turns into "what the fuck am I doing this for?" I'm getting damn close to that point. I miss my family, I miss my friends, and hearing the President on TV is suddenly comforting because I actually understand what's going on. Meeting a handful of Americans today--the first I'd seen since I arrived--was a huge weight off my shoulders. But I still feel uncomfortable, broke, confused, and terribly alone. A letter I received from Joe (and the e-mail that followed it) have only added to it.
Point the third. I'm determined to stick this out. Maybe it'll take a week, but eventually the weather will break and my homesickness and jetlag will even out.
Point the fourth. I want to go home.
posted by Meredith at 4:03 PM
2 Comments:
aww, its too bad you're suffering... but it seems like your roommate is hopeless with her double language barrier. anyway, stay strong til we hang out in september. i was just kidding about hoping that you'll hate japan. its just the location's bad. seriously, okazaki?!? thats like, going from middletown, nj to the middletown, nj of japan. be excited for tokyo. til then, good luck.
Hey Meredith, it's probably just the initial culture shock. Stick with it and I'm sure you'll have a great experience. I think you _should_ see it as an adventure -- and a relatively transient one at that which you should try to get as much out of as possible... home will still (as always) be there for you when you get back.
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