Goodbye. Sayoonara. Alvida.

There is a line in the Bollywood movie Kabhie Alvida Na Kehna where one of the main characters says, "Goodbye. Sayoonara. Alvida." And then the woman in love with him tells him not to say goodbye (alvida in Hindi) because it ruins the possibility of meeting again.

During my last week in Japan I enjoyed many goodbye dinners and a bonnenkai/birthday party with the Osa English conversation group. December is a busy bonnenkai month in Japan. Bonnenkai is a drinking party where the drinks offer kind forgetfulness of things from the past year. The bonnenkai/birthday party I went to didn't have alcohol. Instead there were two delicious pots of nabe. In this case, we ate away what we didn't want to remember of the past year.

As I took my last train ride to the Niimi station, I wanted to say thank you to the people who were familiar to me, but still strangers - the lady who runs the snack and newspaper stand in the train station, the young women who usually collect my train ticket when I get off the train, the little dog that wears a t-shirt that belongs to the hair salon. I may have been a familiar face to them for a few weeks, but they were a part of the rhythm of Niimi that I got to know. And of course, there are all the wonderful people I've met during my stay here: people from the English conversation groups and Roslynn's co-workers. And there is also the land to thank who has been so gracious in letting me stay in and admire its beauty.

A few Japanese people have asked me of my impressions of Japan. In the Niimi area, I'm struck by how much the people know the rhythm of the land like their own heartbeat. They are so attuned to the cycle of nature and it is reflected in their classical art and tradition. When I arrived in Osaka, the second largest city in Japan, I was shocked at how orderly everyone was in the subway. People formed single file lines as they awaited their trains and when the train arrived, they parted to the side to make room for the passengers getting off the train. Once everyone got off, people entered the train single file. I am also struck by the glimpses of contradiction I've seen and heard: the pressure to uphold Japanese tradition, to be perfectly Japanese all within the historical backdrop of a country that westernized very quickly; immigrant laborers imported from South America who are of Japanese descent and speak Brazilian Portugese and Spanish, but are not considered Japanese. Yet the Japanese government grants these laborers work visas because they look Japanese and have Japanese blood, but they are not integrated into Japanese society. They lie in the margins, not the mainstream.

One of the last things I'll mention that I love about Japan is that on the train, a male high school student whipped a pink wallet out of his pocket to give his friend train fare. Men and boys are pretty, not just the women. It's all very metrosexual.

To Japan I won't say goodbye, sayoonara, or alvida because I would hate to ruin the chance of meeting again. Instead I'll say namaste to my adventure ahead in India. Namaste is also the departure greeting as well anyway.