We Live Where We Are

It's 2 a.m. and we've just finished packing. Micah, Danya, Keegan, Saya, and Amy all dropped by throughout the evening to say goodbye, help us pack, and send us off with well-wishes. I'm incredibly tired. I wish I could skip tomorrow morning altogether and somehow end up on the plane already, reclining slightly, watching a movie perhaps, sipping lightly the ginger ale I've just been handed by the polite and non-intrusive stewardess.

Today we had a farewell reception at the private residence of the Japanese Consul General. A delicious ginger bread house of a home, it was near-Bavarian in style and had a candycane gate and sugary gumdrop garden. Us JETs posed for group photos on the lawn, stuck location-corresponding pins into a giant map of Japan, and finally feasted on a generous spread of delicious mostly-fishy foods after ceremonially half-listening to the half-dozen kampai-style speeches made by the various present dignitaries. There was much mingling, and I got to speak with the three JET interviewers who grilled me those long few months ago. I, of course, congratulated them on their fine choices.

Tomorrow is indeed a big day for the Broadwater duo. The lovely wife's already nestled in bed and my body's exhaustion is telling me it's time to join her in slumberland.