The “vacation” portion of my study abroad experience has sadly come to an end. I’ve just hit my first week of real classes, and after a not so peaceful course registration, I’m glad it’s over. Before all this, I thought I’d known the true depths of how difficult registration can be. Back at DU, failing to enroll for classes which are vital for your degree happens to almost everyone at least once. But, after having to learn and use multiple different course-lookup software, navigate three separate registration windows, and try my luck on a completely random lottery-based class enrollment system, I now realize that DU isn’t so bad after all. Well, after all of that, and after dropping my Japanese level because I’m not nearly as good as I thought, it’s over. At least it turned out okay. A few of my friends weren’t so lucky and accidentally signed up for classes held at Doshisha University’s other campus, an hour train ride away. No, they aren’t able to fix them. For me, I’m finally in a good position to relax and settle in. With this, the daunting reality of just how long I’ll be here for has been becoming increasingly apparent. Japan will be my home for the next four and a half months, and honestly, it’s scary. I’m the type of person who can never undervalue the importance of comfort. No, I don’t live inside my comfort zone, but when all the fun is over, and it’s time to come back, and it’s just me alone, I want to feel at home. For the past week I’d been feeling more and more uneasy because I wasn’t feeling comfort when I needed it. I felt temporary here, and I started missing my home, an ocean away. But slowly, I started making changes.
I started by buying a bike, which, serendipitously, made me feel better almost immediately. Not only did I get a killer deal, and can race to school blisteringly fast, but I also regained a sorely missed sense of freedom. In Denver, I used to bike everywhere, and it felt good being able to quickly go wherever, whenever. Now, here in Japan, it feels even better. Kyoto is extremely bikeable, and I’ve found a lot of joy in aimlessly wandering around with no real destination in mind. Whenever I start remembering that home is 6,000 miles away, I hop on my bike, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel so far away. But really, how good I started feeling from riding my bike again gave me the idea that I don’t need to miss my home, I can bring it here.
Next, and least excitingly, I changed how I buy groceries. Stay with me now. I promise saving money is cool. Back in Denver, I’d walk into a Safeway with savings on my mind, and B-line it straight for the bargain section. Then, I’d wander around, crouching down and squinting at various price tags, comparing each item’s dollar per ounce value, until BOOM. A deal. I’d walk out of the store with a smile on my face and some extra money in my pocket. Since moving to Japan, I’d been doing all my shopping at convenience stores like 7-Eleven and tiny little markets, where I couldn’t build an understanding of how much something should cost, and what a “good” price even is. It was stressful knowing how much money I wasn’t saving. Having a bike helped with this, as I can now easily get to much larger supermarkets, like the ones in America, where I can penny pinch to my heart’s content. What can I say, I’m a frugal guy.
But then, with these extra stacks burning holes in my pockets, I had to find a way to blow all the money I’d just worked so hard to save, and the best way I’ve found to burn money like it’s nothing is to pick up an expensive hobby, and there are few hobbies more expensive than bouldering. For those of you who don’t know, bouldering is basically a more technical version of the climbing wall at your local rec center from when you were a kid, only more pretentious. I used to boulder 3-4 times a week before I came to Japan, and feeling a rocky shaped hole in my heart and a wallet that was just a little too heavy, I had to pick it back up. I’d researched ahead of time what the bouldering scene is like here in Japan, so I knew I was in for a challenge. The specific classifications and difficulty grading scales in Japan are simply brutal, and in the interest of not getting sidetracked, I will now take us off track to explain them in great detail. Bouldering problems are like tiny little puzzles. Constricted to only using certain holds, you must figure out a way to solve the puzzle and climb to the top. Boulder problems are graded using the V Scale, where V0 is the easiest and V17 is basically impossible. V0–V2 is beginner level, V3–V6 is intermediate, V7–V10 is advanced, V11–V13 is pro territory, and V14+ means you’re one of the best in the world, and if you can climb a V17, you’re one of only a few on Earth. A month ago, I was climbing V4s and V5s, which means I was an intermediate level climber, far from the skill ceiling, but a ways away from where I started. However, in Japan, the V Scale has been notoriously pulled back about four stops. Over here, I’m struggling to climb V2s. Among the more advanced climbers, the technical term for struggling on V2s is called being bad at climbing. But, although I’ve been humbled, I’m glad to be back on the wall.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I’ve started making Matcha tea again. I got really into making Matcha back home, and given that Matcha was invented in Japan, the best Matcha is made in Japan, and that the Matcha capital of the world is only 20 minutes away from me, it was only a matter of time. The only problem with Matcha is that it’s not as simple as steeping a tea bag for two minutes and calling it a day. Matcha is a real man’s tea. It requires elbow grease, finesse, and buying an unreasonable number of supplies just to be able to make it. Surprisingly, despite being in the Matcha capital of the world, reasonably priced supplies are hard to come by. So, penny pinching, I turned to something that we all know and love: Amazon. There’s nothing more comforting than wanting, finding, then having something, all without leaving your house. So, after collecting all the necessary instruments, and using extremely high-quality ceremonial grade Matcha, I finally made my first batch. Expecting something revolutionary, and with prying eyes of various onlookers (making Matcha can create quite a scene in the communal kitchen), I eagerly took my first sip. It was awful. Downright terrible. I had accidently bought what I suspect is called super-diet oat milk, which tasted just like pulverized cardboard. I’ve since bought tastier oat milk, and my Matchas are turning out much better. I’ve been having fun experimenting with different ingredient ratios and techniques, and I plan on taking a Matcha-making class while I’m here, for the ultimate wisdom.
In the end, I realized how important it is to take care of yourself, and listen to your own needs. The person with the ability to make you happier than anyone else is you, so you might as well do it.
In other news, I also took a trip to Osaka with a few friends, and experienced numerous amounts of sweet delights. Here are some photos.
DU Abroad 