Things to Get Used to Again

Dearest Rachel –

Home again, and having to get used to Central Daylight Time (yes, the clocks changed over while we were out of the country, which only means we have to turn our own internal clocks back fourteen hours rather than fifteen, as far as we’re concerned). Someone told me the other day that, as long as I didn’t have a schedule to hew to on either side of the pond, the effects of jet lag could be considered a superpower, allowing me to exist in a sort of time between times.  I’m not sure if any of that makes sense; maybe it will over the next few days as we slowly adjust back to things back here at home.

Certainly, the time zones are the most obvious thing to adapt to when going to or returning from distant travels. The return day is the hardest part, too, what with existing for some ten hours in a place where time passes but doesn’t actually exist, since we landed some three hours before we’d taken off – at least according to the local clocks. For all that I used to be able to sleep on airplane flights back in the day, I don’t think I got much sleep this time around, either. I’m not entirely sure as to why.  Maybe it’s that, back when I was in the work farce, I was always so exhausted after any given day that sleep was a welcome respite that I was only too happy to let myself tumble into.  

These days, without that kind of stress to wear me out, all I get is bored from sitting in the chair, trying to empty myself of thoughts. One of those thoughts that I can’t shake is how you got the weary version of me, who couldn’t stay awake to connect with you properly, and it’s only now that I become more the kind of person you would have been able to spend more waking time with.  Bad enough that I’ve been able to get Daniel over to Japan several times since your departure when you wanted to be a part of that; now I can stay up that much later, even unwillingly. I keep thinking I need to apologize for the fact that you didn’t get me at my best (or, even if you did at some point, you also got me at my worst far too often).  You deserved better than that from me, honey.  But there’s nothing I can do or say to fix things, though; what’s done is done.

In any event, along with the time zones messing with our ability to sync our sleep cycle up with home, travel wrecks havoc with other aspects of our circadian rhythm, such as when to eat. Then again, with a little discipline, one can time things so as to line up with the appropriate mealtimes here. After all, one can’t count on the existence of a Family Mart to stop in and get a moist, juicy chicken patty at some wee hour of the night. Additionally, if one has a craving, say, for a decent pizza, one should get it just as the sun is setting, rather than eat late and promptly fall asleep, thereby allowing the body to convert too much of it into fat cells due to inaction

But how to get this pizza? Unlike the past week or so, it isn’t as if we can walk to the local pizzeria – and even if we could, it’s not as if we have enough energy to do so. In fact, Daniel literally gave me permission to head out to pick something up on my own, since he could barely stay awake enough to watch videos, let alone drag himself out to the car.

Which, by the way, turned out to be another thing to get used to again. To be sure, driving a car is like riding a bicycle; once you learn how to do it, you never really forget how its done. As the same time, the car is louder than I recall it being – although this may just be from there being so many more electric vehicles roaming the streets of Tokyo than here – and it leaves me wondering if the thing is on the verge of breaking down. I already know it’s on its last legs, but listening to it while behind the wheel is suddenly a worrisome experience.

I tend to think of the pizzeria as a hole-in-the-wall – all they do is carry-out business, with no room to sit down and eat there – but as I walked in and looked around, I found myself realizing that one could fit three Miso-yas (that ramen shop we visited in Nagano) into the space, assuming you count the area behind the counter. Now, I guess that pizza making, especially on a commercial scale, requires larger equipment than it does to make either soup or noodles, but it’s still weird to suddenly be confronted with how everything back home is so much bigger than over there.

And this scales in every dimension; not only are rooms, walls and aisles cramped, but so are ceilings in a way one doesn’t consider until you’ve dealt with both in a short period of time. Over there, everything tops out at around eight feet; it’s plenty of room for anyone, but it just feels off somehow. It’s not until you get back home that you realize that ceilings here tend to be closer to ten feet. It shouldn’t make a difference – it’s all still over our heads – but it feels that much more spacious back home, and it takes a moment to adjust to again.

Likewise, the noise is different here – but not how you’d think. While it may be true that Japan’s homes and apartments are built with walls so thin that you can hear what the neighbors are doing and saying, that doesn’t apply to our experience in hotel rooms. Better soundproofing is all part of the customer experience.

So this isn’t a cultural shift that has to be made – although it’s perfectly true that Japan makes a point of shutting down during the night – as much as it is one of accommodations. And besides, you just don’t hear much of the city from seventeen floors up (apart from the concerts at the Global Ring theater in Nichi-Guchi Park).

Although, let me be fair; it’s not as if the ambient sounds of home have much to do with traffic. In fact, the noise that woke me up this morning shortly after midnight wasn’t the cars driving by, but rather that of a loud thunderclap and the rain on my roof – the latter of which, in particular, you wouldn’t hear in a hotel, or most apartments, for that matter, unless you were staying on the top floor.

And with that having been mentioned, one of the things that I expected there to be a difference on really didn’t turn out to be one; the weather. I expected that Tokyo, in particular, would be, if not considerably, at least noticeably warmer than here at home. Given the weather conditions upon our sendoff, combined with the fact that apparently we had missed a record-breaking heat wave back here, that proved to be the opposite of the case. Sure, that heat wave subsided by the time we landed back here, but it wasn’t any colder than where we had just left – and at the moment we landed, it wasn’t raining, so that was an improvement (although that wouldn’t last).

So, yeah… there’s a lot of things to get used to again now that we’re home. At least we’ve begun to get some rest – after being woken by that thunderstorm earlier this morning, I rolled over and didn’t wake up until eight. Hm… maybe I need that much more sleep yet.

With that being said, keep an eye on Daniel and me, honey, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.