I was drinking with Sandy in the park recently. It was dark and naturally we were on the swing set.
?I?ll just never be happy here,? she said.
?Congratulations,? I replied, ?you?re finally Japanese. Here, have a chu-hi. It?s got real lemon flavor.?
Then we kampai-ed as our swings passed, which is hard to do without spilling. The great thing about Japan is it has these little dirt plots that serve as corner parks, complete with rusty jungle gyms and broken see-saws where you can drink at night. I guess theoretically kids could play there during the day too, if the population hadn?t all died off. Anyway I figured it kind of worked in our favor.
?It?s all the rude people,? she continued, ?and dead-end jobs.
?Ah, you?ve just had too much booze. Know what we should do" ?No really. I?m going back Seattle,? she said.
?We should switch to beer, is what,? I said. ?Jeez Sandy, you?re the only one left.
?I just need to save some money.
?Heh, I remember when you were saving to come here.
?Well that?s irony for you,? she said.
Everyone who can leave Japan eventually does?-it?s a constant, like the speed of light. There?s an arc?-move to the country fresh-faced and exited, travel around taking pictures and trying to speak Japanese, then reach an apex where you realize why there?re so many stray cats, then begin the descent into Japanese marriage and a punishing job, or packing up and leaving.
Okay, so Japan?s a scam, but that?s probably obvious. The internet image of a nation with a...