This week is O-bon in Japan, the time of year when ancestors come back from the grave and people return to their hometowns to reconnect. It's fitting, then, that we return home to our town in Vermont this week. We don't leave for another couple of days, but we have to return our trusty little mobile internet device tomorrow, so it's over and out for the Jaybird blog, at least the "in Japan" part of it.
It's hard to believe that our Kyoto days are coming to an end. When S was considering applying for the grant two summers ago and asked where in the world I most wanted to live for a short while, I said "Kyoto, I'd love to live in Kyoto." I have no regrets about spending the past few months in this remarkable city, and I want to come back even more than ever. I've just finished reading (the abridged) Tale of Genji, in which the main character spends most of his time with "wet sleeves" (because of all his weeping). We feel a little like that.
It wasn't always easy (on any of us) to balance wanting to do everything and see everything (not to mention to do work and research) with our evolving relationship as a family, but Japan has been a wonderful place to watch our Jaybird grow and develop. His presence has opened doors for us (adults aren't even allowed at our favorite park without children) and has given us a glimpse into Japanese culture that we wouldn't otherwise have seen. Our little ambassador has started conversations (and forced us to use Japanese) with people we would never have met, and has made us think about cultural difference in new ways. Being a parent of a baby in another culture has certainly stretched my comfort level and made me more confident of my meager mothering skills. And, of course, his presence in our lives has continued to delight and surprise us whether at a temple or museum, or at the depato play area or at home in the apartment.
We've made friends here, both Japanese and expat, and hope to continue to cultivate those relationships. There's a good chance we'll be back in Kyoto again in the not-so-distant future, which makes leaving now a little easier. Also making it easier, we're excited to see our friends and family back home, and to reintroduce J to his Vermont home and community. I can't wait to see him develop his own friendships over time as he grows up in our small town.
So, we're fortunate that our permanent home is a wonderful place and our temporary home here in Japan has been more fun, rewarding, and educational than we imagined. Did I say how fortunate we are? I can't, by the way, think of better traveling companions than J and his dad.
In addition to the people, there are many things I'll miss about living in Kyoto: the baby-crazy culture, food, trains and buses, hot springs, walking everywhere, temples and shrines, festivals, did I say food?, ancient culture, and sensitivity to the changing seasons. We are very much looking forward to reconnecting with our American roots, however; especially things like literacy, humane summer weather in Vermont, the easy availability of local and organic food, wearing a nice t-shirt and being slightly overdressed (rather than my best outfit and being slightly underdressed!), a relaxed village lifestyle, our quiet neighborhood, our horse, our day jobs, and, of course, the people. J and I walked to the Shimogamo Shrine once more this morning to ring the big bell and wish for safe travels and peace for families here, at home, and everywhere.
If you're still reading this blog after all this time: thanks. It has been a pleasure to write, especially knowing that friends and family are out there keeping up with J's adventures. I don't know how Jaybird in Japan will evolve--I'll likely continue to add some Japan posts, since we still have a lot of unshared pictures and experiences. And I may simply use it as a convenient place to share thoughts about culture and parenting and pictures of little J as he continues to grow and change. In any case, I'll at least plan to write about what I'm sure will be an adventure: going home.
It's not goodbye, Kyoto, it's see you later.
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