No, Really, I Am an American

No lie.

I love my parents.

No, really. I can say that, and mean that sincerely. I can bitch and moan about their unexpected arrival and the fact that they treat me like I’m incompetent, but they’re my parents. I love them. There are worse things they can be, there are worse things they can do. They can infuriate me, but I’m hardly a stand-up daughter.

Yeah, it’s pretty safe to say it was a good visit. I was happy they came, and on a shallow, jessi’s-a-jack-ass note, I got my stuff.

What amuses me about the first leg of their visit is that everyone kept assuring me that they would be fine making their way to the city from the airport; they’ve traveled abroad before, they’re adults, etc. Funny thing about my parents is that for all that they are well-travelled and the like…I wouldn’t trust them to know exactly what their doing. Especially in a country where people don’t speak English to the degree that my parents would understand. What with neither party being native speakers and all.

Darya was going to go to KIX (mmmm…Kix, what a great cereal — KIX = Kansai Internation Airport, like ORD is O’Hare…you know what? Allison and Denise understand!) with a sign, lest my parents become completely lost. Upon checking arrival times and the like, it was thus decided that I would have more than enough time to make it to KIX and back AND make it to work with time to spare, especially since their flight was arriving early.

A quick change late, I was out the door and on the bus to KIX.

I was a little apprehensive once I arrived there, however, as there were two exits from the baggage claim. I was finally able to discern the board that dictated from which exit people would be…well, exiting and situated myself at the South Gate.

The look on my mom’s face was so worth it. Genuine surprise and genuine happiness.

Unfortunately for me, while I was just as happy to see my mom, the whole affection thing hadn’t quite kicked in. “Hey, moron, this is your mom, you like your mom, you hug your mom, remember?” was a little slow on the registering. Talk about awkward hug. I felt like such an ass. But not nearly as much of an ass as when I hugged my dad.

“We weren’t expecting to see you!”

I grinned, “I wasn’t expecting to be here. But I made it.”

My mom went on to explain how they met someone at the gate stateside and that aforementioned person was to conduct them to Osaka JR Station in Umeda. I was a little surprised by this, but pleased that they would have been able to manage.

And then I met Akiko. I have the feeling my parents probably scared poor Akiko when they spoke with her. She was a rather meek woman, then again, there are quite a few that are — I would have gauged her at about a Level 5 student — and incredibly soft-spoken. What she must have thought of my parents…

We ended up taking the JR back to the city. I knew I should have taken the OCAT bus, but all in all, it got us where we needed to be, a billions stops in between and all. I may as well have taken a Local.

Living in Osaka has made me a fast walker, or perhaps a faster walker, I’m none too sure anymore. I had to adjust my pace considerably when conducting my parents through the station. Admittedly, I don’t know Umeda nearly as well as I know Namba, but I have some semblance of navigation. I knew I could get us to the Midosuji and Hankyu line…but that was about it. I figured we would find some sort of information on the way. (Has anyone else noticed that in writing this, I’ve adopted a sort of…archaic, potentially late-Early Modern lingo? This would be Sir Walter Scott’s doing.)

I decided to try and exit, there were maps there after all. While we were trying to suss out one of them, a gentleman, possibly a salaryman, stopped and offered his assistance. We showed him where we needed to go. “Please wait here, I listen for information.”

I quickly deciphered this as, “I’ll be right back, I’ll go check.” while my parents were puzzled by his explanation. I forget that they’re not used to that anymore. They were a bit amused.

I didn’t even get the fellow’s name, but he totally went above and beyond to try and help us. He walked us to the shuttle bus area, and when he wasn’t sure of the exact location, he asked us to wait again and hurried to find out where to go. As he was rapidly departing our company, my dad noticed the Westin Osaka bus. “Go catch him!”

Without a thought, I was off. Man, that dude could book it! I was tearing through the lobby, expertly weaving between people, a skill I have but not nearly to the mastery of this fellow! I caught up with him, thanked him profusely, and returned to where the shuttle buses were.

Once again, I was quite impressed by the hospitality of the Japanese people. If you look lost enough, someone’s bound to help you. Like Akiko, and the salaryman. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say they went out of their way to help us out.

The whole check-in process was taken care of and the like, so key in wallet and bag on hand, I scurried off to work. It wasn’t going to be like the time we went to Costco, but the time would not allow me the delight of dinner. I had to settle for a granola bar purchased at San Marino instead of one of their delicious sandwiches I quite prefer. No matter. The important thing was my parents were here and not wandering about the vast city of Osaka aimlessly. (And yes, I do mean vast. If you have no idea what you’re doing, it’s easy to get lost. Not that any city is easy to navigate, but I think it adds to the difficulty when you don’t speak a lick of the language. Then again, Americans can be brash and one way or another, they can find their way.)

Our first day of misadventuring took us to Dotombori. Apparently, this was a budgeted trip for my parents, so there was no eating of crab like I expected. We did have a nice tempura set at one of the other local eateries bordering the famous canal. There was shopping involved which resulted in jessi buying a pair of capris (yes, capris — and now I need sandals since my mom apparently gave mine away to the Salvation Army. I liked those sandals, too. Grrr…).

It was thick out, however. Breathing was quite the effort, and I’m pretty sure I lost weight just standing there. We decided to head back to Umeda to “take a rest”.

They came to see my apartment, and here is when I got to have my first conversation about the impropriety of living with a boy. It came out my mom’s mouth, which lead me to believe that perhaps it was she who was more upset about this than my father, as she had led me to believe several weeks ago. It wasn’t as angry as some of our other disagreements, but it certainly left me frustrated.

We ate dinner at AsianDays, for those of you who do not remember this restaurant, it’s where we go for hot pot. I was sad to discover my parents found it not nearly as exciting as I did. They’re used to more flavor, I guess.

I was soooo bored when we got back to the hotel. I’m used to this time for one thing, and for another, my parents were asleep by 10:00. I laughed to myself considering that if it had been any other Tuesday, my last lesson would have just started. (Still have to take Kate out to dinner for that one…)

Since getting to sleep was quite the task, waking up the next morning was no picnic. Now, I’m pretty good about getting up for my 7:30 shift on Sundays, but crikey, this was sad. I was sleepy!

My parents had already eaten, no big. I got extra Z’s out of the deal. It was decided that we would head to Kyoto for the day.

I’m seriously starting to think I’m not allowed to go there anymore. Every time I do, it rains. At least this time I didn’t catch a cold.

I finally saw the Kinkakuji (”Golden Pavillion”) — truth be told, I would have enjoyed it so much more had the weather be 1) clearer 2) cooler. I have plans to return, though. There was a great noodle shop in the area where we went for lunch. That was definitely a highlight.

The buses were about as much fun as going to Nara, for those of you who do not recall, that was quite the trip. We ended up taking the right bus the wrong way. We had hoped to take the 205 to the museum for the art exhibit; we returned to the JR Station instead.

The exhibit itself wasn’t as thrilling as I had hoped. Well, it was cool, but hardly worth the money we paid to see it. I can’t wait to go back to the Art Institute when I come home.

My parents went back to the hotel, I went to DenDen Town to try and find my brother his toys. Jacob and Darya came to join me. It took us some time to find them, but we did eventually. Macross/Robotech is not as easy to find as say Gundam (there’s a store and all).

Dinner was a bulgogi bowl from a Korean place in…was it by the Hankyu Line? Well, the point is, we found dinner. It was actually quite yummy. Huh. I have to try and find that place again.

I went home for the night. My parents said something about not being able to stay again, charged something something. I was content to return to my apato anyway. I still had some stuff I wanted to get done and the like.

My dad sat with me in the lobby while I waited for the bus. Here is where we get “don’t move in with a boy” talk number 2. My previous thoughts that my mom had been exaggerating were countered by this discussion. My dad hardly speaks of his disapproval directly, so I was quite…I don’t know, that sinking stomach feeling kind of thing. It sucked. I really wanted ice cream after that.

There’s nothing that can be done, however. Nova has already filled my room, and well, I already paid money and stuff. Bright side of potential misfortune? I can always move out.

Today wasn’t very exciting. Wow. KIX. What fun. Bus ride to KIX led to “don’t move” talk number 3. Hey, at least I haven’t been disowned like I had originally thought.

All in all, I was glad my parents came. It was a good time, and I mean that. I discovered I was always going to be the baby, and apparently I’m Daddy’s girl. AND if I come back to the States when my contract is up, I’d get Addie. I do love Addie and all, but I can’t say she’s enough of a reason to come home. Bribe me with the car, will you? Pffft.

Anyone else surprised it’s been six months? With the way things are turning out…I won’t be home until December IF I’m lucky. Weird.

Hey! I got my stuff! Did I mention getting my stuff??? AND Pepsi??????

Mmm…American Pepsi…

I have also decided that should I be fortunate enough to find someone to love and share the rest of my life with, I want our relationship to be just like my parents’ — it is so obvious they still love each other.

It humbles me.