Home

Home is such a strange term for expats and travelers. Is it where you are from or where you are going? In this house we have multiple definitions for the term, multiple places that qualify. For the kids, Japan is home. Where they were born, learned to walk and talk, learned how to handle chopsticks. Even the oldest two with Florida printed on their birth certificates only really know Japan.

Japan is my adulthood, where I have given birth to two kids and raised the whole lot of them in a tiny apartment. Where I have overcome personal reservations for the good of the whole. Where I came to value precision as much as innovation. Japan suits me in many ways, the wabi sabi aesthetics, the quiet, the appreciation for nature.

Our time in Japan, five years this time, has come to a close. After losing one lackluster job and refusing a few others, I came to the realization that we have outgrown Japan. For now at least. For the way we have been here. Jason and I have figured out the work we need to do in this life and are no longer to delay or sacrifice for a petty security. I cannot justify it any longer. The distractions of being an immigrant are too severe. We need a true stability, a place where we can work on our projects and provide a healthy, loving environment for our kids.

Next month, a few days before Sebastian turns ten, we will fly home. It is to a home that I associate with childhood, a home my children will now include in their memories. We go home to family and friends, to a space large enough to contain us. We go back knowing there is a recession and determined to work and support ourselves by our own wits and hands. Frankly, as much as we love Japan, it is a relief. Jason and I are creatives with four children. Having to worry about visas and language barriers when we just want to get our work done has become frustrating. And the kids are a bit relieved too. They are relieved because we will be homeschooling them so their time will be less regimented. They are sad to lose their friends, sad to leave what they know. They are also excited about the adventure that they consider America to be. They look forward to the strange wilds of Florida, the diversity of people, the chance to play soccer and learn how to surf.

It is a huge change but it feels really right. We are ready to get on with our next chapter. Home is, after all, where the heart is. Home is my family, my work, my friends. These things are not anchored to place. Japan is home, Florida is home, this whole beautiful messed up planet is home. As we progress, humanity will eventually cease to insist on so many boundaries of perceived space. Already many of us consider ourselves to be global citizens, sharing an internationality. For our kids, I have no doubt that they will benefit from a freer world but in the end, I bet they will realize that it is not where you are but what you do while you are there that matters.

Home Study Days

One of the challenges of raising bilingual kids is helping them to learn in both languages. For the most part we are more concerned with their childhood experience, encouraging exploration and acts of empathy/sympathy. We try to let them have as much free time as possible in the afternoons so they can play with friends or each other. For the most part, they determine how their time is spent, an element that is crucial as they step closer day by day toward adulthood.



I do want them to be scholastically well-equipped to support their journey through this world. So this year while I have been on maternity leave, we have started doing home study days. We sit down twice a week and do some formalized lessons, either with paper worksheets or more tactile materials. As you may remember, I try to incorporate Montessori methods in our home whenever possible. Colette is using the sandpaper letters and metal insets in preparation for writing. She is super alert to finding her "w's" as she refers to the alphabet whenever we are out and about. During the day I do more practical Montessori activities with her like pouring rice and dressing frames to learn how to use buttons and laces.



Nicolai is into Bob books, the movable alphabet, and math. Yep, math. He walks around counting by threes and fours and loves the hundreds board app on the iPad. The boy sits down and writes out addition problems, filling out the entire page with sums.

For Sebastian, I just try to supplement his school work to help him in what his teacher considers to be his weaker areas. I personally abide by the theories of multiple intelligences and various learning styles. I do not think Sebastian's weaker areas are truly weak but since the school wants well-rounded students, I try to help him to feel more confident in areas that he is not so interested in. I also work with him on his English reading which was really slow going until recently when we switched from phonics to sight words. And he is such a rabid reader in Japanese that I do not worry about his abilities.

We are still smoothing out some of the kinks of home study time (and by kinks I mean resolving disputes sparked by having three very determined and different learners at one table) but that is all part of the journey.

Hello Summer?

Today is the coolest July 21st I have ever known. Right now it is about 68 degrees and drizzly. I am extremely grateful for such an odd day in the middle of summer but it is a little strange.

Jason had today off, another odd thing since Saturdays are his busiest teaching days. So we headed down to Sakae for the weekly farmer's market. (We were a little late since we had to drop Nico off at school for his overnight camping trip with his classmates. His first overnight away since moving to Japan.)
 Even though the cool and damp morning made me think of October, the tables at the market were covered with the bounty of summer. Tomatoes, garlic, herbs, peppers, bitter melon, eggplant, and squash. The rainbow colors were vibrant against the grey day but I had a hard time thinking of summertime recipes to use them in. (My rule is I cannot buy vegetables unless I know exactly what I will make with them. This avoids the tragedy of wilted/rotten organic veggies.) I meant to buy more but ended up with just a dinner's worth.


The real prize were these guys and gals. Two pairs of kabuto mushi for only 200 yen (2 bucks). We felt like thieves but gladly accepted the chance to buy some really nice beetles, raised by elementary school kids in the mountains. Made me miss country living, like I always do on market day.


When we returned home, Sebastian's pal Hikari-chan was waiting for us. They spent the rest of the dreary day playing with the beetles and hamster (notice the non-plural) on the porch, letting the guy beetles fight on the goya (bitter melon) vine.



Tonight we were going to go to the giant festival out at the port (3 kids instead of 4 makes such feats seem feasible) but the drizzle continues, making home the better choice. The main attraction of the festival is the fireworks. I am betting they will be a tad dull this year.
Besides, next weekend is the matsuri (festival) at Sebastian's school so we can get our festivaling in then. And we have our own (family-sized) sack of fireworks, just waiting for the best night.
Tonight though I think we'll enjoy a little less fighting (brother v. brother), a glass of beer, and the cool breeze flowing through the open windows. So cool in fact, I think I need my light sweater.  Is it really summer vacation already?

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It was a good holiday. Not much was accomplished but we didn't have high hopes for vacation productivity at the start of it anyway. We did clean the house and ate good food and threw snowballs and read some books and played Mario Cart and stayed warm inside our little apartment. We had invitations to go visiting friends but issued rain checks for the sake of having some good, unhurried down time. We didn't bicker much, only at the beginning when we were getting used to being around each other so much again. Now we are all chums. The kids are such pals that whenever one is given a treat they go run to find the other to give it to. A big difference from the first few days when selfish tendencies were the norm, each child competing for my attention, the oft absent one. Now they feel secure again, the two weeks having replenished all that is stripped away during the rush of the work-school week.

Tomorrow I return to work. I will be busy teaching and preparing materials for the new teachers. Come March 6th, I will be on leave for over a year. I know that the year will be hectic and full of frowns and temper tantrums. These two weeks have given me a glimpse of the sweetness that is also in store for me during my time off. Knowing that I will have such a wonderful gift makes it a little easier to leave my warm nest tomorrow morning.