Specific Nostalgia

As I depart my dear, darling students (well, most of them were dear darlings. Some were mischievous monsters) and beloved teachers and friends, I feel emotionally drained. The last two weeks I have spent in a whirlwind of rapid goodbyes and hopes to meet again in the future as I parted from those who have earned spots in my heart.

I have learned so much from my students and Japanese friends. If at any moment, which there have been some, I thought “man, my time here was not worthwhile,” all I had to do was look at the stack of letters written to me by my students thanking me for teaching them. Some students simply said they enjoyed my lessons and my singing, and others expressed their deepest gratitude and assured me that they would never forget me. The latter letters brought tears to my eyes almost every time.

Of course, it will be sad. Yet, I also feel a bit relieved as working as a teacher was NOT easy. Part of me feels like Frodo when he’s talking to Sam at the end of The Lord of the Rings and says “it’s gone, it’s done.” Okay, okay. Perhaps it is a bit hyperbolic to compare the end of a teaching job to throwing a cursed ring into the fires of Mordor, but I often have a flare for the dramatic, in case you haven’t noticed.

On my last couple of days here, I noticed that I started feeling nostalgic about far too specific of things. Saying to myself “wow, this is the last time I will ever walk to school,” or “I can’t believe this will be my last meal in the Indian restaurant where I spent many a night during my time in Japan,” is a completely normal thing to do in my emotional situation. However, all of a sudden, I realized that I began having these “wow, this is my last time” thoughts about even tiny details. While I was at the gym, I thought, “wow, this is the last time I will ever use this exact workout machine here.” Instead of the more general idea that it would be my last time in the gym.

I made myself chuckle at thinking of just HOW specific I could get with it. “Aw, sad, this is the last time I will be standing in line waiting to buy hand warmers at the random Japanese drug store near the sushi restaurant at exactly 8:16 at night, so sad!” Or, “I just might cry, it’s my last time biking in the cold when one of my headphones fell out of my ear because I hit the bump on the sidewalk at the wrong angle right next to the Pizza Hut, aww man!” Or finally, “here come the tears… this is my last time seeing the man who sometimes walks his Chihuahua outside of my apartment and always stops right under that tree so he can blow his nose and his dog can pee… I’m so emotional!”

Okay, okay. Maybe my nostalgia hasn't gotten to just such a specific point just yet. But as my time in Ageo ticks down to hours instead of days, I may find my mind going there.  

Leaving Ageo also fills me with excitement for the next part of my journey. I can’t wait to spend some time in Tokyo touring around and doing some things that were on my list of “must-do” things in Japan before taking off for Thailand. Tea ceremonies, Disneyland, and the Tokyo Skytree are calling, and who am I to ignore the call of adventure? (What a weird English saying, “who am I to…” Like, how do you respond to that?).