Life has become so busy lately. And to think I pictured myself in lonely exile, taking up hobby after hobby and pining! There are too many friendships to maintain, too many church responsibilities, too much to get done at school and plenty to explore here. My sleeping problem has disappeared for the past 3 weeks, a product of happy busyness. It's good to be me. There is plenty to report on for this week with school beginning and other developments, but I'll let the people who want to know those details find me on Skype. It's been a few weeks since I've talked with my dear ones face to face or screen to screen in real time. Here are the results of the JAPLAN:
I woke only 30 minutes before I needed to be at the airport on Friday morning two weeks ago. We had been up late with young women/young men stuff for the Youth Conference, and then I had to finish doing all those last minute things that take so long. I grabbed up my backpack and small suitcase and raced downstairs to have the security guard in the lobby call a cab for me. The cab driver arrived and we flapped out arms, and I made take-off sound effects and he got me to the airport, a thirty minute drive, in ten minutes. I pray you may never encounter a Taiwanese taxi driver on the road, but I was grateful to be a passenger. It cost me $6. That's how cheap taxis are here. I got on board my plane and promptly fell asleep but woke in time to fly see Fukuoka before we landed. Changing money and getting to my hostel took far longer than I thought it would. I had a moment when I held the money in my hand and I realized how long it had been. My first thought was, "Oh, is this what it looked like?" At last, the hostel lent me a bicycle and I went spinning around the city, exploring a few places like the first Zen temple in Japan and an Asian art museum (I don't recommend it). I was supposed to meet Sister Eguchi that night at the station, but I forgot that Japan is an hour later than Taiwan and kept the poor thing waiting for an hour. We finally met up and went to eat Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki which was delicious. Taiwanese food really isn't as good as Japanese food. Plus it had the spice of familiarity. I talked and talked to Sister Eguchi. Throughout my trip I was delighted by how much Japanese came back to me. I think I was even better than I was as a missionary. Words for things I hadn't used or thought of seemed to be just lying in the street for me to pick up again.
Sister Eguchi had Girl's Camp the following day, and so this was the only time we could meet up. It was wonderful to see her, and all my companions so peaceful, so faithful and steady. The night before I left I read again about Ammon and Alma and the things they said at the end of their long missions. I read of them once again meeting up by chance. It was funny to sit next to my companions again on buses and trains. That was probably the most nostalgic part of being there. But it was good and not sad or uncomfortable. It's funny the closeness that happened in just 3 or four months. It's a closeness that 2 years later was easy to regain. It was pleasant to talk about the 'now' and not only the 'then'.
The next day I was supposed to meet Sister Kawano and Sister Akaike near the bus stop to the Fukuoka temple. The day before, Sister Kawano's grandmother passed away and so she called in some friends and arranged my travel to Miyazaki and my night's lodging with the network of ward members and returned missionaries in her cell phone. I was well taken care of. I met Sister Akaike at the Fukuoka temple, but ran out of time to do a session because I thought I had changed the time on my cell pohone and hadn't. She is exactly the way I remember her and we talked for two hours. There is a certain sadness in the sisters of my mission about finding an eternal companion. They don't have a lot of options for dating. She also has been job searching for months with no luck. She struggles, but it leaves her with lots of time to go to the temple. She is strong and we talked about the past and the present with no regrets.
The Miyazaki Branch was doing temple work that day, and they agreed to take me home on their bus. I stayed with Sister Nishida and her son. Sister Nishida has been a single mom for years and years. She found the gospel and wanted it for her son. Shogo, is an excellent young man. He is headed to BYU-Hawaii as I type this. He grew up with the Kawano family and is a wonderful priesthood holder in his home. His English is also excellent. I sat talking to him, so impressed. I love teenagers. I think I'm in the right profession. I was so comfortable and taken care of in their home. Sister Nishida has a great interest in Brigham Young and I went to bed with the book his daughter Clara wrote about life in his family. ( I was especially interested in what was written about all the second language speakers who came to the valley and how Clara said they learned English. This multiculturalism isn't a first in the church and learning language has always been a part of the church in this dispensation. Church education system and Kim B. Clark are doing some very interesting things lately with learning and that's intriguing, too) We watched Japanese TV including a show where the contestants were blindfolded and they had to memorize something and then were asked questions about it while a man dressed like a monk walked solemnly up and down with a stick to beat them with it if they were wrong. Some people's humor...
I attended church with the Nishidas and the quirky Miyazaki branch and thoroughly enjoyed it. It is a little sad there are so few young men and young women and few single adults. The ward seemed to be mostly old men and women. However, I'll have you know that these older saints were extremely genki, outgoing and friendly. The lesson for Sunday school was on Preach my Gospel chapter 9--Finding People to Teach. I grinned a lot. It was one of the most nostalgic moments of the trip. It was so nice to be able to participate, too, with no translator. The Japanese members have seen that the JMTC has been disbanded. It seems the numbers of Japanese missionaries couldn't justify it. They worry that there are fewer missionaries. "It's up to us to make sure the church grows in Japan!" the teacher repeated a few times. I think we have active members and inactive members in this church but some members are more active than others. I hope one day to be as genki as these old men who were the priesthood of this little branch.
Sister Kawano arrived that evening with bamboo cut from near her grandmother's home. We used it to build a kind of trough for a river which sprang from the kitchen sink in the church through a hose through a window. Sister Kawano dropped somen noodles into the top and they flowed down this river where I and several of her friends waited to catch them with chopsticks rough hewn for that purpose. Food has never been so fun. She took me home that night to her tiny house. It's a happy place. The Kawanos are a neat family. They don't come any better. We ate natto in the morning and I attended her seminary class. I napped for an hour while she did laundry and then we went to eat udon with her friends, did Karaoke, ate takoyaki (fried octopus balls covered in barbecue sauce, seaweed flakes and mayonnaise—Yum!) and bought fireworks that would have been illegal in the States. We shot them off down near the river and danced around them like young Comanches. We went that evening to pick up the rest of the family at Miyazaki Airport and had an excellent time. The Kawanos are the shortest and funniest family I have ever met. They were awfully kind to me and it was nice we had already met on Skype. Her mom is the cutest woman. She ran alongside the car as Sister Kawano drove me to the bus station.
was nervous to see. She affected me that way even after I transferred to a new companion. She's just so capable and direct in her criticism, but it's something I like about her. After I swallowed a few dozen pieces of humble pie, I grew to trust that. We arranged to meet at the bus stop in Kumamoto. I searched the crowd until I found her face. I grinned and hugged her awkwardly, feeling like a bean and ten years younger than her again. She hasn't changed much and she is as lovely as ever. She always did look like a Japanese china doll. We got in her car (black--I could have predicted that) and headed for food and then Mount Aso, but not before she lost me for 30 minutes. She laughed though. All the Japanese sisters had sent the message down the wire: "Sister Powell is still a genius for forgetting things and a little lost one." All of them laughed. I think I have been a refining force for their senses of humor. I told Sister Matsumoto that I had tearfully prayed countless times both on the mission and off to have this weakness made into a strength. My conclusion was that it isn't God's will. Mitsuyo said of course it isn't. We are necessarily weak. The character for human (人) is not a pair of legs, according to her, but two people leaning on each other.
Mount Aso is an active volcano. It was quite beautiful driving up there and Mitsuyo was able to prove to me that there are cows in Japan. As we came back I said it would be cool to see a monkey. Just then she saw a monkey show on the side of the road and we pulled off and fed the monkeys, then raced for Kumamoto Castle before it closed. She always was the best companion to sight-see with. She knows a lot about Japanese culture. Many of my companions who were members of the church since they were young just shrugged their shoulders when we went to temples or museums. That night Mitsuyo put me up in a ryoukan in her home town Kurume, a Japanese style hotel with a hot spring, a robe and the best night sleep I think I have had since I was an infant. I'm fully converted to the Japanese bath experience. We ate yakiniku and she insisted I try raw horsemeat, which was excellent. The next morning she drove me to the airport after we stopped at the second largest statue in Japan. She had work that day in Fukuoka as a children's English teacher. We spent lots of time driving together and talked about so much--her time in Australia, her family and how things are. She is difficult to draw out, but if you are patient and listen long enough, you'll get a few gems from her. It was good. I don't know what else to say. At the airport I stood in front of her awkwardly and said what I felt: "We saw many wonderful things. Thank you. But the most wonderful was seeing you, shimai. Please don't become less active." To which she responded with a terse, "Hai." I love her. I hope she understands that to me, she is Japan.
I flew to Tokyo and raced from Narita to Kichijouji in time to catch an old convert, the first I ever taught and saw baptized who was visiting her family. Naomi was still lovely. She is married and has a baby and lives in Nagano. Soon after her baptism she became inactive, but the member who jointed with her, Sister Saito and her family and Sister Mitsugi have been faithful friends to her through many difficult times. Sister Saito met with Naomi and I at a restaurant on Sun Road and Naomi talked and talked. This was the saddest part of the trip. She was raised in a home where money was the highest priority. Even an unhappy marriage was acceptable if it meant you had money. Naomi began to get older and worry about how she would live. How could she live without the luxuries she was used to? Her self-worth and status would suffer. Her father is a dentist and so they found some single young men doctors and arranged meetings with Naomi. Naomi chose one and was married. Her marriage seems extremely difficult. Money still is a driving factor in her life and though she loves her son, it is clear that this life is a difficult one for her. She said she wouldn't complain, she would make the most of it but she laments that her husband and she don't have the same sense of humor, the same appreciation of things. It was a marriage of convenience. This is why Japan makes me sad: it's a place full of exhausted, frightened people. So many decisions are made out of fear. Though life is orderly and at a high standard of living, people aren't as happy as they ought to be. It was still good to see Naomi. As she drove off inot the night, I discovered that I had left my directions for the hostel I would be staying at in another place and Sister Saito, went with me to find it, bless her. We talked a lot on the train and reminisced about the other times she had saved me and my companion. I hope I'm now a member like her: Still on fire for missionary work, but performing other roles. She helped me understand Naomi's situation as we rode the train.
It was good to see Kichijouji, too. Sister Halliday told me that "kyun" is the sound of one's heart tightening in Japanese. My heart 'kyun'-ed here several times especially as I watched the lanky American bean with her pocket-sized Japanese trainer glide out of the parking lot at 8:30. It almost hurt to remember how much I hurt here and how much I learned. Obon was the week after I left Japan but the streets were full of ghosts. Interestingly, the streets alone were not enough to bring on the nostalgic feelings. It happened only as I pictured another hand holding the handles on the train next to mine and a similar nametag--the faces, the helmet hair, the feelings of companionship. My setting apart blessing mentioned my companions a lot and about how I would have the Lord's help in navigating that unnatural relationship. I remember noting at the time how suspiciously absent was any reference to my investigators in that blessing, but it was all for the best. There were other strong feelings as I walked those old stations and streets--As a missionary I think I believed that I was different and had a special aura, like everyone said, but I really didn't know it. I knew it now. I was different but not for better or worse. My calling and my role was different and I felt different being there. It would have been wrong for me to be a full-time missionary there again.
The next morning I awoke and headed out to the Tokyo temple. As I got on the morning subway I had another nostalgic experience: a smush train. For about 5 minutes I grinned as I remembered smush trains of the past and short Sister Matusmoto exclaiming, "My feet aren't touching!" in the midst of the press. On such a train you experience being a part of the human race in a strange and new way. It's fairly unpleasant, though. I remembered again why anyone in their right mind hates living in Tokyo.
The temple was a sweet experience. A timeless experience. The celestial room emptied quickly and I sat there gazing at the picture of the Savior and reading D&C 4 in Japanese. Those are cryptic verses but now, in between the lines, I filled in with knowledge I gained as a missionary. I knew that "thrust in your sickle with your might" spoke about their being a learning curve, about discouragement, about time and patience and human relationships. I knew about asking, seeking and receiving. Some scriptures are brief and simple so that we will seek for personal revelation for solutions to our specific circumstances. I was filled with joy and quickly my thoughts moved from the past to the future. Mine seemed especially bright that morning. I had a powerful spiritual experience alone in the temple. I felt like I saw a future filled with church service, with living with courage and trusting that if I committed my life to the Lord, that my adventures would be great. I felt so sure of my lineage continuing, of my filling the role of wife and mother and magnifying it. I knelt there and said a prayer of gratitude for my life. I have often felt that I was so blessed it was almost embarrassing when I knew other people's trials. I don't know why I get to be so blessed except that I feel it is connected to choices my ancestors and parents made and that I was being freed up to serve.
I found myself a stifling phone booth and made some phone calls. I was able to visit Serena Berardy, a woman who was baptized in Shibuya just before I went home. She was from Shanghai, who spoke English as her second language. I thought of her often as I've learned here in Taiwan, a little closer to her home culture. It was wonderful to visit with her again. She has a son and a happy family. She is active in the church and the generous, funny woman I remembered. The two converts that I visited in Shibuya did most of the talking which was nice, now, not to do the telling, but to just listen and enjoy them, hear about their thoughts on the gospel, marriage, life. I walked around Shibuya station some and reminisced about a 21-year old kid from Idaho who thought she had seen big cities like Chicago, London and Paris, but who hadn't seen anything yet. I couldn't believe there were that many Japanese people in the world, much less living so closely and tidily stacked on top of each other. Being in Tokyo the megopolis is like landing on another planet. Pictures don't do it justice.
That night I met Sister Tamura in Asakusa where she works in a sushi shop. We went to eat tempura and took pictures. It came out that both of us were planning to be in Yamanashi prefecture on Saturday so we decided to go together. She is an impressive sister. She was converted in Hokkaido, the only member in her family. Her family and she are fairly distant. She doesn't know anything about how they are doing. The tiny branch in her hometown saw her off on her mission and she was a hardworking and wonderful sister. She's a lot of fun too. Conversation never lagged and we took a long long walk to see the new Tokyo Skytree and other things. That night I had to make an emergency hostel change at 2 AM and it was kind of exhausting.
The next morning I met Reiko Tokunaga, a convert from Shibuya and a kinjin (golden person) if there ever was one. She took to the Book of Mormon, the commandments, etc., so easily. I asked her about life since then and was pleased to find she is an active member of the Relief Society presidency, and a faithful member of the church. She sat by me while I was sick (a combination of heat, and trying to do too much in ten days) and we walked around the touristy shops and sights of old town Tokyo and even took a jinrikusha (a wheeled cart pulled by a genki young fella from the old days). We ate strange and wonderful things and took a boat down the Sumida River past all the bridges of the Koiwa area. It's funny how everyone felt like they needed to take me through the whole tourist gamut and feed me when a corn dog from Family Mart, a good conversation and a walk around an old church would have delighted me equally as much. That night Reiko Shimai expressed something I found interesting. She hesitantly said that though she loved the gospel and the church and the kind people in the ward, she sometimes felt smothered. She missed spending time with her roommates and friends. All her time was spent at institute, stake-sponsored classes to become better gospel teachers, SA activities where the average age was 20 years younger than hers, and Saturdays were spent in hours of exhaustive Relief Society planning. For many members of the church, like me for example, the church is our life, our social sphere, everything. When you ask these members for referrals they are genuinely puzzled. All their friends are members. Their recreation revolves around members. Reiko said that she might be able to introduce the gospel to her housemates if she could ever spend some time with them. I think we need to be careful. I am happy to be involved with church activities all the time here in Taiwan, but I really value opportunities to meet different kinds of people. I can understand her frustration and the guilt she feels. I think if she doesn't go to the SA activities; her soul will still be sound. I hope I didn't give her a faulty opinion.
Saturday morning Sister Tamura and I headed for Kofu. We looked at old mission pictures and President, she has two of the best pictures of you that I have ever seen. I fell asleep on the train ride out there (I always did as a missionary too.) It was fun to remember how it was like entering a different world. Sister Halliday said she remembered gazing out the window when she transferred to Kofu and saying she wasn't sure if she had just left Japan or just entered it. I had planned on climbing Mount Fuji, thinking this was an important pilgrimage but I was so tired and it would have meant going alone and in all honesty, this trip, though wonderful, made me realize how rough it can be to travel alone. I rather hope this is the last trip I make abroad by myself. Tamura Shimai and I were led around by a Kofu ward member, Brother Sugiyama, who was a referral from Brother Ito and was taught and baptized by Elders LeSeuer and Iida and is as solid a young single kyoudai as you could ask for. I hope he finds one of the wonderful single young women of Japan, soon. We went to Shosenkyou, a waterfall presided over by a mountain spirit named Fukusennin, an owl-like creature with a long beard. We could see Fuji and a whole vista of mountains and so I had my mountain fix after all. Fuji was clouded over, anyway, and wouldn't have been a great view.
My heart 'kyun'-ed in Kofu a few times, too. I don't care what anyone says about Kofu. I. Loved. It. There. On my trip Kofu performed the same service it had for me as a missionary--when I went there I was discouraged, exhausted and unsure of whether I was worth very much as a missionary. I was healed and laughed a lot there. I love quirky personalities and people who let me see into their lives. Kofu members are surprisingly uninhibited.
That night I was picked up by the Agrens, a couple who I loved when I was there. They exclaimed, "Let's dendo!" and we went to visit some less-actives who had known me as a missionary. Sister Agren is Japanese and her husband is Brazilian. (One of the wonderful things about Kofu is that it is liberally sprinkled with Brazilians). They own their own business and all their children have moved away, so they told me they would chauffer me about and put me up. I went to church in Kofu and didn't think I would ever have enough. I sat next to Hosaka Shimai who was one of my best friends in Japan. They were wonderful to me and threw me a party that Sunday after church. This was exactly how I wanted to spend my last day in Japan. We sat around, some of my very favorite ward members and talked for 6 hours. Not much about the past but a lot about the present and the future which was right and good. We talked about families and Japanese, Taiwanese and American people. They teased me until I could hardly stand it. It was good to not be a missionary. If you had told me three years ago when I arrived in Kichijouji that one day I would thoroughly enjoy myself sitting around and talking to people in Japanese for 6 hours, I never would have believed it. The Lord gave me a whole new set of people to love who otherwise would have been as remote as Venus. This is a work of gathering.
Monday the Agren's took me to Kofu station to catch a bus to catch my plane. It was an exhausting itinerary. I was ready to go home and it surprised me how much Taiwan felt like home. I had been longing for some kind of address when I decided to move to Taiwan and a place to belong to and I guess I found it. On the plane home I voluntarily chose a Chinese movie about Confucius to watch staring Chow Yun Fat. It was only slightly cheesy. Apparently Master Kong and his famous disciples lived like Robin Hood and his merry men, a rollicking band of sages in exile, not eating the king's meet but quoting proverbs at each other and corrupt government officials and saving China from unethical behavior. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Now I'm back and there is still so much to write about and think about. School is underway in a big way, the young women get more and more interesting and I Iearn more about myself and other people. Cheers for now.
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