Hawaii

365 days has come to an end. We are in Hawaii, and nothing but our memory, our old clothes, and a few unpaid bills remain behind in Japan. Health insurance bills and an internet bill actually, and I am in the process of figuring out how to pay them since I didn't have time to get all that taken care of before we left. But other than a few items of business, our year in Japan is history, and life as a full time American citizen has resumed.

Being in Hawaii has made the transition westward fairly easy. Here we get a nice mix of eastern and western culture, complete with a spattering of Japanese people to talk to. First of all though, Americans are huge! Not just fat, but tall, wide, thick. Even skinny Americans seem to take up twice as much space as Japanese people. I expected to see large pacific Islanders here, but all the Americans we have seen are huge. Why? Why is everyone so big?

On Thursday we arrived at 7:00 am, and by the time we got through customs, rounded up our rental car, loaded all 11 bags into the trunk, back seat, and foot wells, and drove to the North Shore, it was eleven AM. I took an hour long nap and then hopped back into the car with Callan to go pick up Grandma and Grandpa Franklin who were scheduled to arrive at the airport at 1:15 pm. However when I arrived at the airport the passenger pick up area showed no flights from their airline and the security guard told me there were no flights that afternoon on that airline from Vegas.

Perplexed, I drove around the pick up area looking for Vegas flights but couldn't find any. Callan was asleep so I couldn't get out of the car, and it took 45 minutes and a few more security guards to figure out that the flight was two hours late and that it wouldn't be in until 3:30 pm. With that news I took Callan to the bank, and then we got lunch at subway (amazing that you can just drive in to the parking lot, pick up an sandwich and drive off. I could never have done that in Marugame).

We finally connected with Grandma and Grandpa who brought some extra luggage for us to fit some of our stuff in to get it back to the mainland (international weight limits are 70 pounds per bag and domestic is 50. Since our flight from Honolulu to Utah will be domestic, all our bags that barely made it under the international limit are going to have to shed 10 or 15 pounds). We hurried back to the north shore where Melissa was waiting, thinking we'd probably died, or gotten lost, or something else terrible. We went to L and L Hawaiian barbecue for dinner (lots of food, lots of grease) and then we all crashed pretty early.


We've been to the Bishop museum, had dinner at the Sunset Grill in Honolulu, spent an hour in Waikiki traffic, swam at Waimea Bay, cut our feet on coral, visited the Audubon center, watched the Joseph Smith movie at the Laie Temple visitors center, slept in, stayed up late, eaten too much, and generally enjoyed ourselves. Tomorrow we're going to Hanauma bay, Tuesday we'll visit the Polynesian culture center, and Wednesday we're doing the military stuff (pearl harbor, The Missouri, etc.). And Thursday and 7AM we're on a plain to Utah.

We've had pizza, polish dogs, cold cereal, salad wraps, oreos, mint ice cream, pineapple ice cream, sliced turkey sandwiches, yogurt and granola, grilled and fried mahi mahi, krusteaz pancakes, kettle chips, grapes, cantaloupe, and whole wheat bread.

It is difficult to put words to how it feels to be done with all of this. One minute I am running full steam, teaching classes, training new teachers, taking care of last minute errands, and the next minute I'm stealing a kiss from my wife as we float in the gentle surf of Waimea bay with the sun setting behind great cream puff clouds that stretch out across an endless horizon of iridescence. For one year, exactly one year, Japan, English teaching, students, schedules, and lessons were my life. And now its all done, gone, less than a shadow, more than a memory. But its only over for me. The students will keep coming, the new teachers will keep planning, and scheduling, and teaching. The money will keep flowing, the clock will keep spinning, and the sun will keep setting.

As I jump off this Ferris wheel existence two things are evident. First, It is good to feel like I'm moving forward again, instead of just going round and round past the same scenery. And second, it is sad to realize that the Ferris wheel still spins without me. I was a momentary revolving blip in the linear, progressing lives of hundreds of people in Japan just as much as they were in mine. Our paths crossed momentarily, we hopefully had a positive impact on each others' lives, and now it is over. Neither myself nor my students were really spinning like a Ferris wheel, it only felt like that because of the detachment that results from the inevitable brevity of the interaction. At times the entire experience felt doomed simply because I knew it was temporary. Still, occasionally, when I allowed myself to live in the now, and not focus on the 365 day spinning wheel I was riding, I did feel like I was making a difference. And even now, as I think of the students, the school, and the teachers, still marching on in the same way as they were before I left, I know that despite the brevity, the inevitability of its end, I know that the experience has done much for me. Life is full of these small pockets of experience. They can be lengthy or short, but they all serve the same purpose. For me, they are teaching me to value each interaction, each episode of the larger experience. Whether it's a date, a conversation, a year in Japan, four years in college, 35 years in marriage, they are all cyclical, and they all provide the opportunity to recognize how we are changing, how we are evolving as a person.

My mom asked me if I would, knowing what I know now, still go to Japan for a year. I told her I would still go, but I wouldn't go again. I regret nothing about the year. It was twelve months well spent, and I don't think another 12 months in the same environment could offer me more than the first year did. I have learned how much I value mobility that allows me to visit my family, I have learned what type of work I want to do, I have learned a great deal about how to treat my wife, how to cultivate patience with my son, how to balance my schedule to make time for family, how to spend money, how to save money, how to take care of money without worrying about it. The lessons could mostly be catagorized as introductory courses to a life long study of a great number of subjects that are at the foundation of my existence as a husband and father, as a writer, as a son, and brother, as an american citizen, as a disciple of Jesus, and as a son of God. Far from checking off a list of lessons learned, the experience has produced a miriad questions that are sure to serve as the catalyst for future growth that would not have happened had we stayed in Happy Valley Utah.

And of course, in addition to the high minded, idealistic "things I learned during my year in Japan" speach, I should also comment that we ate some great food, saw some killer scenary, and generally enjoyed a year long extended work holiday. We visited almost every major tourist attraction and cultural sight within four hours of our home, ate in dozens of small shops, visited in peoples homes, had run ins with the law, and picked up some fun souveniers (including our unborn son, who currently ways more than two pounds and is due in less than 90 days), not to mention we took more than a thousand photographs and two gigs of video.

I could write and write and write. But i'ts one thirty am and we're going snorkling tomorrow. So that will have to do.

Day 364: off to Osaka

I just got finished removing all our files from this computer and now I am ready for bed.  It is one am and in eight hours we will be on a bus for Osaka.  Our 365 days is coming to a close and it hasn’t gone out without a hitch.

We’ve been running everywhere trying to get souvenirs purchased, gifts found, money transferred, and tickets purchased, not to mention show the new teachers around and finish out our last few classes.  Tonight, after my last class Melissa and I spent an hour trying to get Callan to fall asleep and then we packed up the last of our suit cases and I drove them down to the school (Tomorrow we have to get all three of us plus the Bunions plus all our stuff to the station and there is no way to do that in our little car so the luggage got an early start).  Unfortunately when I arrived at the school at ten thirty pm, the spare key was not in the secret hiding spot.  That could only mean one thing.  Deron, the other teacher had taken it home.  I went by his apartment but all the lights were off. I knocked several times and even tried to call at him through an open window, but they didn’t hear me so I gave up and drove to a convenience store and called him from a pay phone.  I really didn’t want to wake them up, but I had car full of luggage and no where to put it.  I finally got the key from a very tired looking Deron and unloaded all the luggage and got back to our place by 11:45 pm.  

On Sunday night Fumiyo held a farewell Franklins/Welcome Bennions party at her house. She invited several people and fed us all Yakiniku, or Japanese barbaque. After dinner we had a testimony meeting and then Kenji played the Piano and Robert played his flute. It was a nice way to say goodbye. From left to right Brother and Sister Morimura, Kenji with Callan, Elder Itakura, Deron Watanabe, Robert, Nicolle, and Collette Bennion, and in the Front Elder Chirstianson. I don't remember the name of the man on the far left.

As usual Callan didn't eat much because he was too distracted by the crowd. Elder Christianson was a good sport and played with him for quite a while.

Brother Morimura loves to have people to his house and is a gracious host. The missionaries in the background are Elder Christianson and Elder Itakura. They were their with a friend who was studying with them. The bennions also came, and with the Morimura's, and us it made thirteen people.

Deron's wife Lori was in America so he came alone to the party. I caught him looking lonely (or maybe just hungry.)

Yakiniku is Japanese barbaque and we cooked it in the living room on a camping type grill set on wooden blocks above a butane stove. There were piles of meat and vegetables and everyone just put what they want on the grill and it all cooked together.

Callan and Collette had fun making pretend phone calls on Fumiyo's fax machine.

This is the kitchen at Yamashita Udon. You can walk in, get a hot bowl of udon soup, and be out in five minutes for less than three hundred yen. They make all their noodles in house, and are Always busy.

On saturday we took one last trip to Yamashita Udon to get some good japanese food. We're going to miss all of this. I'm going to have to see if I can make the noodles my self at home.

This is the Udon master at Yamashita Udon near our home. Every day they make Udon from scratch and then cut it with this special racheting cutter that cuts the udon evenly. We've been to this restaurant so many times that they know who we are, and were sad to hear we would be leaving.

Yamashita Udon in Zentsuji is the best place to take new people to check out what all the fuss is about Sanuki Udon. It is the real deal japanese restaurant that american Japanese restaurants only wish they could be.

Last wednesday we decided to get some major packing done before the Bennions arrived. Our living room was a disaster and Joey had the worst case of dust allergies he has ever had. He had to take a break and get out of the room.

Pythagorean Switches on TV everyday

Mom and Callan next to the Canal in Kurashiki. It rained like crazy most of the day.

Here are a few flower pictures from a walk last Sunday. This one has been played with a little, but the other two I believe are as is.

This was the last hydrangea cluster alive on this bush.

more of these huge lillies.

For our afterschool program on Friday Melissa decided to teach the kids how to make ice cream in a bag. Before we had all the kids try it, we tested the process at home. Callan, Dad, and Mom passed around this batch of strawberry milk turned Ice cream for about ten minutes. What did we learn. First of all, the bags will definitely spring a leak if you throw them too hard. And second, if you don't rinse off the inner bag before you serve the ice cream, you end up with salty ice cream.

Oto, our Boss' grandson, getting ready to shake.