What Makes Me Tick

It is slightly past midnight on a fall weekend for me in Japan.  Tonight was the Atsugi Officers' Spouses' Associations general meeting.  I am the 2nd VP of the organization and I am in charge of community relations.  The meeting was held on base and, after normal business was attended to, we played Bunco.  I have never played Bunco before but ultimately discerned that, in our circumstances, it is a game of dice that facilitates introductions of the lesser know to those more regular members of AOSA.  Or as another astute women put it: the female version of poker.   

 I went to the meeting tonight with two of my friends.  As the clocked threatened 9:30pm, it was obvious that my companions were ready to leave.  I certainly supported their desire to go home, but I was acutely aware that they would not leave without me.  As the meeting was barely approaching its end, I told my friends/ride to head on, that I was fine getting home on my own.  Not only were we a good ten minute walk from the front gate of the base (did I mention that cabs are not allowed around base?) but there is never a guarantee of a cab outside the gate.  Never the less, I encouraged my tired friends to leave, insisting that I was confident in my abilities to get home.

As my witching hour quickly approached, I made my way to the front gate.  I did call the only cab company I knew and, with the minimal English they spoke, I was reassured that a cab would pick me up from the front gate in five minutes.  Well, as I made it to the front gate in the suggested amount of time, it was apparent that I was far more prompt than my chariot.  Thus, I planted myself on the bench outside the main gate of Atsugi Base to wait.

Now I must mention that there is little fluidity between the base and the world outside.  Often those enjoying a night on base rarely venture back off and those off base don't venture on.  It is not quite the environment where one is assured an easy transition from one to the other.  Why?  I have never been sure.  Thus, tonight, I was going home.  By myself.  From base.  

  

How crazy is the idea that once on base, it's not easy to get home?  I had multiple people throughout the night offer for me to stay with them.  And that is certainly an offer I appreciate.   But, living in Japan, why should I feel intimidated by the mere thought of getting home by myself?  (And not that the offers implied I couldn't do just that).  But in a foreign country, as foreign and unnavigable as Japan supposably is, I feel like those spending time on base aren't always willing to put forth the effort to get what they want - be it venturing on or off base.... to attempt to accomplish something that in America would be simply second nature: getting home via a cab.

Thus, as I waited for my cab,  I saw another taxi pull up and drop off its' patrons.  Quickly, a group of four intoxicated people approached the cab.  I am not sure exactly what transpired, but the cab driver evicted the drunk group and pulled up to me.  It was my turn to hook this cabbie.  I explained to him that I wanted to go to Yamato Eki (Station) and I pulled out my business card with my address.  He was not quite certain as to where to take me but in so many words, he asked me to direct him.  I know a few directional words and I started with those.  As he drove on, he asked if I was an English teacher.  Responding yes, he told me he wanted to improve his English.  We used both English and Japanese to communicate on the ride home.  Literally, we used maybe ten words that we mutually understood to get me home tonight.  The cab driver chuckled at me when I asked how he was in Japanese and I grinned from ear to ear when he was able to get his point across in menial English.  As we approached my house, I got him to stop the cab.  I began fumbling through my money to pay.  I love to pay with change (Lisa - maybe leftover from you making fun of my ridiculously heavy wallet for so long).  So as I rummaged through to get correct change, he stopped me, kindly telling me not to worry about the last few pieces of change.  Certain that I had owed more,  I continued to pull out coin after coin, paying slightly more than I owed ($0.13).  I did not care.  Nor did he care that I paid the correct, full amount.  We had a great ride home.  We communicated.  He appreciated me, an English girl who spoke very little Japanese.  And I appreciated him, a kind, Japanese cab driver that spoke the important English words (as far as a foreigner was concerned).  We had a mutually enlightening cab ride.  One where one walks away happy, no matter what the differences were or what language barrier existed.  We understood each other and the money didn't matter.  To us, the experience paid for itself   

People ask me why I like to travel or, more importantly, why I can move half way around the world.  It is moments like tonight that make it all worth it.  Just like in Budapest where I approached strange Hungarians in search of an infamous pastry shop.  Through emphatic gestures and a lot of foreign words (on all of our parts), I was led to the right destination.  Like the French chef perfectly molding crepes each afternoon in Aix or my friendship with my Polish waitress at my favorite restaurant in Aspen, my Japanese cab driver was equally successful in fulfilling his duties despite differing languages.  This is what makes me tick.   A new environment, with foreign surroundings, navigable to anyone with an ounce of a desire to try.  Who wouldn't jump at the opportunity for that?  That is what makes me tick.  What makes me want to go on and push myself...to move to foreign places.  To step out of my comfort zone.  Because after I transcend the language barrier for the first time or lay the foundation for a friendship, I realize that I truly can and am willing to survive in a foreign atmosphere.  It is a satisfaction like nothing else.  A check in the box that I have negotiated a foreign environment and I am not intimidated to do it over and over again.  And, thus, I am reassured that every foreign experience after that initial break, each amplified experience afterwords, just reinvigorates my desire for more.