The Inexplicable Urge to Pay it Forward

Hello all...

Let's take care of my predictable complaints right away, shall we?

Weather:  frigid.

House: frigid.

Homeschooling: puttering along with a surprising minimum of griping and procrastination.

Writing: bumbling along in fits and starts.  My theory is that my brain keeps freezing up then thawing.
When my brain is frozen, I have trouble writing.  When my brain thaws out, the words flow.

It's all about the weather, ultimately.

This last weekend Bob, Patrick and I toted ourselves to Kobe to meet up with Darren (good buddy with whom Bob went to high school) and his girlfriend Mary.  Darren and Mary arrived in Japan last Thursday, Mary to start her new job, and Darren to try to find a visa-sponsoring job.  In short, they are now embarking on the same  wild, wonderful, confusing, head-banging, beautiful and oft frustrating adventure that Bob and I embarked upon 18 years ago.

Whoo boy.  18 years.

And it is quite true that they have just arrived.  And it is also quite true that this is THEIR adventure, not ours, so their challenges and joys will be dramatically different.

(For one thing, the computers and the internet are FAR BETTER now than they were way back in 1995.  Believe me, this makes a huge informational and communication-oriented difference in living abroad. )

So on Saturday, after the five of us got through exploring the pulsing, crowded streets of Kobe near Sannomiya JR station, after the sun set and the daytime shoppers gave way to the nighttime club goers and bar hoppers, we tucked ourselves into one of the hundreds of  tiny izakayas (restaurant/bar) to relax and talk.

Over bacon-wrapped grilled mochi, succulent fatty maguro sashimi, grilled vegetables and tebasaki chicken wings, Darren and Mary shared the surprises and hurdles they had already encountered....and we happily commiserated and shared whatever wisdom we possessed.

And Bob and I realized something.

We now have  a chance to repay the cosmic favor that we had been granted over and over again each time we have lived in Japan.

The favor of open handed help.  The favor of finding new (and old)   friends waiting for us, ready to help.

The first time we came to Japan we had to rely on these offers of help more than I was comfortable with.  I've never been very good at accepting help, preferring to always take the weight on my own shoulders rather than bother others.  (This is  what makes me a terrible sick person.  Just ask Bob.  Just ask my mom.  I'm the worst.)

But moving to a different country demanded that I put a few dents in this self-sufficient armor of mine.  Thank goodness.

So eighteen years ago we had to ask for help to do even the most basic of things....paying bills, finding a grocery store, distinguishing sugar from salt, navigating the subway ticket machines and mazes of maps and tracks.  Figuring out the difference between the "nozomi", "hikari" and "kodama" shinkansen trains.  Asking how to cook goya (bitter melon), how to appropriately enjoy an onsen, and debating the how and why one would eat natto.  Everything.  Everything.  Everything we tried to do had an element of "how the heck do I do this?!" to it.

Yes indeed,  we can very easily put ourselves into Darren and Mary's shoes right now.

Of course, every time we came back to Japan we needed less and less help.  When we came back the second time we already knew how to live daily life here.  Our requests for hand-holding became  less frequent, true,  yet more technical and certainly  more involved as we periodically needed help to navigate complex bank transactions, to communicate with our children's public school  or to untangle complicated  visa issues.  But our gratitude for the help our friends and colleagues gave us was in no way diminished.  If anything we were more thankful than ever.

Now we are back in Japan for a third time.  And the tables have been turned, and now we are the ones who can help.  At least a little.

And it feels great.

The internet buzzes with fuzzy pretty pictures superimposed with "Pay it Forward" sentiments.

But none of these memes tells you that it feels great to do so.  It's better than giving a wrapped gift and far more satisfying.  In short, giving time, advice, offering that hand of help may start out as you helping someone else....but it boomerangs happiness  right back to you.

So to all those friends and colleagues who held our hand along the way, and to those who continue to answer our bleating calls for help----thank you.

And to Darren and Mary, who may or may not read my blog, I have this to say:

Our hands are out....grab hold  if you need to.