It's five years now that I've lived in Japan. In a flash the time has passed. I never expected to spend more than three months here. An experiment, a personal challenge turned into a lasting love affair.
My first year or two here I tried hard not to be a tourist, a gaijin. Then one day, suddenly, I realized I wasn't. That is not to say I'm Japanese. I'm not. I don't slurp my noodles, I don't wear a germ mask, and I tie and untie my shoes when I put them on and take them off. But I don't feel quite American anymore. I'm somehow different from the thousands of tourists that flood the city everyday. I'm different even from the other expatriates in Kyoto who tend to group together, form communities.
I went to the American Embassy a month back to renew my passport. It felt a little like visiting another country. I answered questions with "hai" and "iie". I bowed slightly when thanking the staff. These are habits now, second nature.
It was strange to write "Kyoto" as my "permanent address" on the application form, to pay the fee in yen, not dollars.
In 10 years when this new passport expires who knows where I'll be. I hope I'll still be an expat. I like being quasi-American.
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