Back in Japan

It feels good to be back in Japan. We were away for almost four years, but, for me, it feels like I never left. As I type, the view from every window in our new apartment reveals white fogged skies and a steady downpour of rain. What a departure from our temporary life in California, where almost every day you were guaranteed the most gorgeous blue skies and mild weather. Just a few days ago, we were eating outdoors in short sleeves. One rather hellish 10-hour plane ride+2-hour train ride+1-hour taxi ride later, we emerged on the other side of the world, regretting that we'd decided to ship over our winter clothing (which could take as long as two months to arrive).

As much as I hate to admit it, the hardest part of the move was R. The packing up, the unpacking, the jetlag, moving countries, setting up our new home--everything would have been fairly straightforward if not for the fact that we also had a very cranky, insecure, tired toddler to care for.

A's parents have been wonderful. They are so in love with R and have been a great help watching her in the afternoons, while A and I rush about trying to get things we need for the apartment. Much to my astonishment, R was almost immediately at ease with them, despite the fact that they are virtually strangers to her. This unfriendly little thing who I have to fight not to apologize for, when strangers coo at her and receive nothing but what I term "dead eyes" in return, almost immediately began holding her arms up to signal that grandpa must hold her and barely gave A and me a glance when we left her behind with her grandparents. She'll also wolf down things they feed her that she won't for me. Can you hear me scratching my head?

After almost a week, R is starting to relax a little in her new home. I've found it really important to give her lots of eye contact, cuddling, and uninterrupted one-on-one time. The first few days, I didn't do a good job with that, simply because I was cross-eyed with exhaustion from a combination of jetlag and the flight--as I expected, based on past experiences, R refused to sleep and I spent hours carrying her up and down the narrow aisles, rocking her in the back of the plane, pretty much getting in everyone's way--and R still not sleeping well after we were back on solid ground.

She still fights sleep a little, I think because she's afraid to be left alone in an unfamiliar place. I'm impatient to decorate a little, and transform her new bedroom into a cheerful, inviting space. But unfortunately, basic necessities like new cupboards, garbage bins, and so on take precedence. And now that we're back in a city where the principle mode of transportation is the train, it's so much harder to go out with R to buy things. Right this minute, I'm worrying over the ten-minute walk from the grocery store to our home in the heavy rain, while juggling R, an umbrella, and shopping bags full of the basic kitchen provisions we still need.

Funnily enough, we're back in Shakijikoen, the same neighborhood we were in before we left. In fact, from the kitchen window, there is a clear view of our old apartment, close enough that I can see a little black and white cat seated at the living room window of one of the units, gazing out into the gray watery day. Everything feels familiar in a warm, intimate way and I'm glad we returned here. One less new thing to figure out.