Vacuous Vacation
So I went to Japan, and I loved it. It was fantastic, and I got to experience so much. By the time I was leaving I felt as though I was at home, even though I knew practically no words and relied completely on my friend or Google Translate to help me communicate. I missed it terribly, feeling as though I was travelling when I was sleeping in my bed at home. There’s a break coming up for me in December, and I’m debating visiting the country again, but the problem is I’d have to do it alone this time. After looking at the prices, it’s plausible, but I have reserved feelings about it. I had very grandiose plans for the trip last year. I wanted to learn Japanese from the ground up. I didn’t want to get my feet wet in the culture, take a couple cute photographs and brag about how worldly I am. I wanted to observe, interact, and blend in, as much as a foreign white guy can blend in with Japanese people. However, working full time, having extra projects, and occasionally wanted to regain strength and do nothing sucked up my summer, and when school restarted it left me reeling from all I had to do in my limited schedule. By the time we had to depart, I knew next to nothing, and felt like I was going in blind. Thankfully, my friend mothered us and guided us through a lot of situations and places, exhibiting supernatural patience and doting care. This time, if I survive everything, I’d be going alone. Having friends to talk to and share experiences with is a certain type of vacation; an adventure that is meant to be shared. The times spent alone are a respite, not a default assumption of how the trip will go. Going alone, it’s the obvious default, and the trip takes on an entirely different dynamic. No longer are there concessions for others, all is centered on what can be achieved by you. And that’s what worries me. There was much I wanted to see on my last trip. Many places I would have skipped or lingered at, but as a group we had made plans and I appreciated the sacrifices others made for me as well. Here, I get to call all the shots, but I fear I won’t be ready. I can research and study, practice and memorize, but that requires time. I don’t have time; I have even less time than I did last year, and this year of school is even more crucial than last year’s. Good prioritization dictates I devote adequate time to studying and projects, and only then turn to preparing for a recreational trip, and that will leave me in the same boat as I was in last year: ignorant and aware of it. I think I could have gotten even more out of the trip had I prepared and done more research, but I didn’t. I had a wondrous time, and romanticized the experience while still in Japan. All my memories of the place, good and bad, are shown in the light of it being a delightful trip, and returning without having grown in appreciation will shatter that illusion I’ve so carefully cultivated. Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware no place is perfect, and I had my eyes wide open for everything, good and bad. But my experiences were ones of friends and understanding. Of being anchored into the country. Going alone is just me, and I would not do the trip justice. It’s like a fine whiskey being drunk by a pleb who can’t stomach sipping a neat drink. So much would go by the wayside as I meandered about, trying hard to figure out what it is I’m doing as I’m doing it. I mean, really this can be said of any vacation, and trip outside of what one might consider their “home”. People do have different things that they want out of a vacation; but knowing that I could have had more at the cost of going a year or two later would eat me up inside. How saddening. And privileged. Not everyone can go on vacation, and certainly not for doing nothing but making it to a break in schooling.
Brought to you by Somniscape’s Calm Vol. 1 and burnt Starbucks Morning Joe coffee.