Tokyo reflections.

When we told them we were planning to move to Kumamoto, some of our Tokyoite acquaintances insinuated that Kumamoto would be a podunk little town with nothing in it and nothing to do. Inaka ("countryside") is the word most of them used.

But when the downtown shopping arcade has a Zara, a Gap, and two Starbuckses, I don't think you can really call it "countryside."

"Rural" by Tokyo standards, apparently.

But I suppose in comparison to Tokyo, this really is the countryside. Some streets are actually empty sometimes, and there's greenery--real greenery!--visible in the mountains just outside town. We drove through some farmland to get here from the airport last Thursday.

Sensory overload outside Shinjuku Station.

The empty streets are a little scary after Tokyo, though; in Tokyo, there were people everywhere. "Everywhere" is not an exaggeration, by the way. If you're claustrophobic, do not try walking around the south side of Shinjuku Station in the evening. You will be hemmed in on all sides by people while the lights and neon signs beat down on you and the music blaring from stores and passing advertising trucks will ensure that you cannot hold a conversation with the person next to you, who you've probably already lost in the sea of people. It's estimated that more people pass through just Shinjuku Station every day than live in the entire city of Los Angeles. They say Tokyo has everything, but in reality, there are two things it lacks: solitude and quiet.

My apartment building is somewhere in this picture. I think.
(From the 45th floor of Toyko City Hall.)

I lived in one of the most coveted areas of the world: My apartment was in Shibuya, right on the western border of Shinjuku. (I mean this literally; if you stepped out the front door of my Shibuya apartment building, you would be in West Shinjuku.) Have you ever seen pictures of neon-drenched Tokyo streets crowded with people? That's within a 20-minute walk of my apartment. When I saw the Shinjuku skyscrapers from the JR Chūō Line train, I knew I was home.

My entire Tokyo apartment, essentially.

The apartment was tiny: the one bed/dining/living room is smaller than any of my dorm rooms at Olaf! Actually, the lack of kitchen counter aside, it was actually quite a nice size for one person. If there were anyone else living there, though, even if they were a good friend and excellent roommate, we would start to hate each other within a day. My view in any direction was into the windows of other buildings, most of which kept their drapes closed at all times. The window above my bed was frosted glass because it was literally two feet from the wall of the house next door. But I'm pretty sure the rent (which I did not have to pay directly) was actually more than my monthly stipend. Tokyo is expensive.

Scenic Toyko balcony view.

But as cool as living in Tokyo was, I couldn't hang my laundry outside without it coming back in smelling like the street. My hair absorbed cigarette odors like a sponge. There was too much going on for too long in too many directions. Every time I went to Shinjuku I would develop what I came to call the "Shinjuku headache," which would always go away within a few minutes of leaving.

So, yes, Tokyo is an exciting place to visit, for sure. I really did enjoy my time there, honest. But I'm also glad to be here in Kumamoto, and I think I'll really enjoy living here for the next two years. In many ways it feels like home. It very much reminds me of some of the larger cities near my hometown that my friends and I used to frequent... except more Japanese, of course. Also, I can't seem to get over the fact that there's a castle in this town. My inner 6-year-old is thrilled.

The absolute hardest thing about leaving Tokyo is something I admit I did not expect: new friends. I got off to such a great start with some people, and then suddenly I had to up and leave for Kumamoto. I have quite a sizeable list of people to get in touch with with when I come back to visit next summer, starting with this little church:

I was here almost every Sunday during my time in Tokyo, plus Christmas Eve and New Year's Day.
(Picture from a commemorative postcard from their 70th anniversary.)

Right now we're in the midst of orientation to the city, our apartments, our schools, our churches, and our Japanese lessons with new teachers, so we're all kind of experiencing information overload right now. We've already visited the school Morgan and I will be teaching at and had an interview with one of our new language teachers, but we still have one more school and a long list of churches to visit, too. Also, the frying pan I bought yesterday turned out to be defective so I'm gonna have to figure out how store returns work around here. More when my brain and everything else settles down.

Therefore, my brothers and sisters, you whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, dear friends!
Philippians 4:1 (NIV)