Snowy Blessings

     Though I long for the warmth of the sun and the flowering buds of Spring, today I'm content with a city blanketed in a thick layer of snow that still whispers its way to the ground.  The streets I've walked throughout the last month seem changed.  A hush has fallen with this snow- only a few meandering souls walk the streets; even the train stations seem quieter than usual.  Some shops closed; others remained open for those of us brave enough to walk in the snow.  And the already clean streets seem cleaner in their white downy fleeces.  This snow is unusual in the Kanto region- usually snow falls and melts within a few hours.
     And so I enjoy the flakes falling and reflect on the last few weeks.
     I can hardly believe it's been a month since I landed in this city.  Every day brings with it new opportunities to talk to students, meet new staff, and continue to learn about Japan.  Last week, I learned how much I'd grown to love a school when I was forced to part with them for the last time.  Though I'd only been with them for three weeks, I'd grown to love the smile on the vice principal's face and her genuine excitement to talk with me, despite the fact that I know little Japanese and she knows little English.  She's taught me that language isn't as much of a barrier to relationships as I thought it was.  And I'd grown to truly love the students, whose nervousness around me dissipated in games of jump rope and tag and making of Valentine cards in an early celebration of "American" Valentine's Day. When the whole school gathered to say goodbye to me in a special lunch, I found myself surprised by the tightening of my throat and the tears that nearly fell from my eyes.  What a blessing to realize how quickly relationships can grow.

This is the way they chose to see me off.

     Also among these new opportunities has been meeting a Japanese/American couple who've lived in Japan for nearly 20 years.  Annette and Akira run an English center out of a small condo near the train station.  They have students ranging in age from 4 to over 40.  Akira is a Japanese man who went to America for University.  He and Annette met in college and when family circumstances arose calling Akira back home, they moved to Japan.  They have a passion for teaching English and helping the Japanese people move toward their dreams, whatever those dreams may be.  They let me come over whenever I want and either talk or join in on lessons.  I've enjoyed being able to talk with them and get to know them and feel blessed to have the chance to meet some of their students- their stories of daily life paint a picture of Japan as a motivated, respectful, considerate, and driven culture.  I've met people learning English to help them in their jobs as Airline representatives, young students whose parents want their children to be able to choose among the premier schools and universities with their ability to communicate, and students who find joy in conquering new vocabulary and the ability to get to know people from other countries through English.  I've also met a fair amount of students whose meek manners and downcast eyes have shown me how different our two cultures are. Even though Japan is moving toward westernization, these aspects of a much older Japan are still intricately woven into the fabric of their culture, just like the colors of the occasional kimono I've seen worn by women around the area.
     And just yesterday, I laughed with joy during a recess gathering of fourth and fifth grade students.  The fourth graders at one of the schools I go to are particularly outgoing in their English practice.  Last week, I met some girls who asked me all sorts of questions, ranging from "what's your favorite color?" to "Run? Now?" This week, some of them wanted me to play with them on the gymnastic-flip bars.  I asked them what sports they did and proceeded in Japanese Lesson number 2 with them.  One girl readily told me she enjoyed swimming, and another told me she played basketball.  Which left Yuna.  She said, quite seriously, 'Shuji."
     "Shuji?" I questioned.  "What's Shuji?"
     "Japanese traditional," was her reply.
     The look of cluelessness must have been pretty evident on my face, because the girls continued to try to explain "Shuji" to me.  But for all their trying, they got... not far.  So, like any resourceful student, they found a rock and drew in the dirt.  Picture a spear looking thing with a box next to it.  It looked like a spear to me, anyway.  It was pointed like one.
     "It's a stick?"
     "Yeah, yeah!" said Yuna.
     Then they kept pointing at the box-looking thing and looking at me like "you know... stick, box."
     Only, it wasn't a stick, and it wasn't a box.  When the bell rang signalling the end of recess, I was still puzzled.  In the teacher's room, I asked around.  "Shuji.  What's 'shuji?'" Turns out, the girl was talking about calligraphy.  She must not have known what "sports" was and took it to mean "hobby."  Now I know: Shuji=calligraphy.  She and I laughed about it later.  I have to say that their eagerness made my day, though.
     I count myself blessed to have the opportunity to work with these teachers, students, and people and learn from them every day.  And though I long for Spring, my heart aches knowing that with that Spring brings with it a melting of this peaceful day and a parting from this place.
     But for now, I choose to rest in the peace of this day, realizing there are many more to enjoy yet before a new season comes.