Aijou

Everytime I open up my Google homepage I notice the cute Japanese banner I added. There’s a fox wearing a traditional straw hat who is always hanging out with different little animal friends of his, including a bumblebee, a bird, and a frog in a crown — not sure of the connection there. Sometimes I think it could be China, but I’m sure it’s meant to be Japan because Mt. Fuji is in the background. The banner changes every few hours with the time of day. Sometimes it’s sunny and the fox is eating a picnic lunch of what looks like sushi; sometimes at dusk the fox and frog sit on their dock and watch the stars come out; at night you can see them sleeping, and sometimes I’ve even noticed fireflies buzzing about. I wonder if it will change with the seasons as well. It’s a silly little thing but its presence makes me happy. Every day it re-instills in me the feeling of living in Japan. You know how certain times in your life are accompanied by a particular feeling? It’s very abstract, impossible to pin down or explain, but also so deeply rooted. I sometimes think the combination of all those abstract feelings is what makes up what I feel is the core of my being at the present moment.

At times I desperately miss living in Japan. I miss the wonder of it all, the strangeness as it becomes more familiar, the sense of being part of some well-oiled super-modern machine while at the same time being surrounded by the ghosts of ancient histories. There are so many concrete things that I miss as well, but it is the feeling that I would really like to get back. I sometimes wonder, if I were to return, would I find that feeling again or would it be an entirely new and different one?