(August 23, 2011)
While trolling Facebook on my commute to Kawahara Junior High this morning, I learned that Jack Layton, former Leader of the Official Opposition in Canada, died of cancer yesterday. Inexplicably, I was immediately overcome by an intense homesickness.
Patriotism? It’s possible. Guilt over the passing of a politician who devoted a good part of his life to a party whose platform I am embarrassed to say I am not overly familiar with? Very possible. Culture-shocking* because, although my Facebook world is full of condolences, the reality that few people in my current city have even heard of the man means grieving alone?** Whatever the reason, the rainy day had just gotten drearier.
And then, out of the blue, in came the sun as twenty-plus elementary school children (kawaii = cute!) shuffled into the previously quiet bus, juggling a rainbow of umbrellas, book-bags, and bus fare, and sporting easily identifiable yellow hats specific to their school – baseball caps for the boys, bucket hats for the girls. Although clearly on their best bus-riding behaviour, the little ones couldn’t help staring at the gloomy girl with her strange kiniroy (gold) hair and aoy (blue) eyes (yes, I am learning my colours), nor could they contain their giggles when she “hello-ed” them.
Needless to say, they made my day. Fingers crossed, they are some of the same children whose school I will be visiting for the first time tomorrow!
*Or, “cultural fatigue-ing,” as the excellent keynote speaker at that oh-so-long-ago Tokyo orientation more accurately labelled the overwhelming sense of exhaustion that inevitably accompanies cultural adaption.
** Thankfully, this was not my case, as I did get a text from Josh, a fellow Tottorian originally from Edmonton, making sure I’d heard the latest news from Canada. Somehow, knowing that someone else in my immediate vicinity was also thinking about home made me feel less alone and more justified in feeling a bit blue.
