"Oh well"

It's funny — the other night, over drinks among our group of foreigners and a few other teachers, an interesting pattern came up. One teacher, who has been in Nagoya for over a year, mentioned to us trainees that nearly all his friends believed they would go back home after serving the first year with the company. When they were young and fresh like us, they anticipated jetting home immediately at the school year's end in late March.

But in reality — and here's the pattern — all of them stayed on. I couldn't help noticing that so many in our group have been swearing to go home after our first contract period. Will they stay true to their word, or will Japan's siren song of culture, healthcare and good pay overpower them?

I, on the other hand, had fully expected to stay on beyond the first year. After all, I have a theory that it takes two years to feel fully comfortable and at home in a new location. By that point, you've made your friends, staked out all your favorite spots and come to terms with any initial culture shock.

But the culture shock so far has been greater than I expected. In France, I barely had time to get over it before my seven months were up; after that short stay, flight triumphed fight, and my instinct was to sigh with relief as I fled home. Here, it's not that simple, nor nearly as Western.

I find myself struggling to find like-mindedness, while I found it incredibly easily on my travels in Southeast Asia and in my newfound hometown haunts of Berkeley and San Francisco. I struggle, too, with minor annoyances (last night's roach, broken AC) and major ones (clashes with my professional best practices). I have felt very conflicted the past few days, because I have invested a lot in coming here but this culture shock seems to be only the tip of the iceberg.

I have been reading Thich Nhat Han's No Death, No Fear, and he reminds us of the importance of appreciating impermanence in Buddhism. As an Eastern culture in many respects, Japanese also borrows from similar philosophies. Many people translate the ubiquitous Japanese phrase しょうがない (shou ga nai) as "It can't be helped," but I never liked that translation. It's not a natural phrase in English. The closest equivalent, I believe, is "Oh well." This means, of course, that nothing more will be done because, in fact, it can't be done. It's up to the fates, as it were.

The Japanese is certainly more elegant as a way to sum up my feelings at the moment. しょうがない。I'll trust impermanence and fate to help me make the right decisions.