Arrival in Japan: When I first came to Japan in 1987, it was cool and refreshing. The winter seemed to stimulate one’s appetite for steamy bowls of noodles and grilled seafood. The end of August has a different effect: aarrghhh! A few years away from it had diminished my memory of the truly miserable weather. Out of the airport into the hot, humid, still air of Fukuoka, we gasped for air like fish out of water. The air was so heavy there was none to breathe. We dragged our too heavy luggage to the car and begged for the air conditioning.
Takahiro greeted us at the airport and drove us home to Kumamoto. It was good to see him again. Maya is less than thrilled since coming home means starting a new school, in the middle of the school year, completely unprepared for the rigors of the Japanese education system and a few years behind in her language ability.
It was dark when we got home, too dark to see the truth. We collapsed in a weary state of jet-lag-sleep until morning.
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