The Long Goodbye

Wow.

I was around people for eleven months and I was a little slow to open up and be more free about being myself. I was so unsure of what to expect and of what was expected of me by others. Eventually I opened up and even smoothed out a couple of misunderstandings. In the course of those months, I became understood and gained understanding. I relearned the virtue of being yourself and continued my ongoing refining of being able to do so without terribly violating their being of self.

People were genuinely sad as I was leaving. The weight started a month ago as the word seemed to finally start spreading. Then the last week came. Then the last day. People had been saying goodbye to me all day. Then when I was doing some cleaning and we were doing what little load-out work we have, there were more goodbyes.

The morning of: more goodbyes. Minami, one of the people from lighting, kept smiling even though she was sad, as had been proven to be true-to-form for her. Musashi held on to both of my hands as he did his best to give parting wishes in English (he only speaks a little) and the rims of his eyes grew red. A group of the ladies surrounded me and gave me well-wishes for my mom. Then they asked me if I was going to come back. The hardest one was Yuki, the guy who had just been catching in the show for the last two weeks. Yuki loves to dance and tries to learn all he can. He is strongly disposed toward hip-hop and house. These last few months he and I would meet in the vomitory before my second gag each show and we would dance a little routine he choreographed. I would also teach him some other basic building block moves that he could incorporate into other moves or use to enhance some ones he already had: just to tweak a little.

Taka, the guy with whom I built a bridge and sorted out a misunderstanding, said one last goodbye of many. There was also the bonus of learning what it means when you cross your fingers in Japan. In the USA we cross our fingers for luck. In Japan, it's apparently a warding gesture. Technically, I think it's likely that is the origin of it here, but the connotation is different.

Yuki cried when he heard I was going to leave. He cried again as my taxi was approaching. I gave him a CD of some hip-hop and techno tracks that are the perfect BPM (beats per minute) range for what he likes to do.

Lunch break was over, but a bunch of the staff dropped work for a bit just to give me a final farewell. It was a lot of love and appreciation and it kept me from being completely dejected. It's nice to have people want you to come back before you leave.

On the way to the train station, the taxi driver recognized me as one of the clowns. He was delighted and I happily stood for a picture before leaving the cab.

I'm going back to Japan again some day.