When you've lived in vastly different locations, sometimes revisiting an old place feels like stepping back in time.
It can simultaneously feel different, changed. Over the course of the two long weekends I spent there, I met five friends' babies for the first time. After an enjoyable day spent with Izumi and her family (including the two-year-old she was giving birth to during my last trip to Japan), she dropped me off at Katsugen - one of my favourite restaurants, and the destination of an enormous walk Michael and I did one night in search of the best pork cutlets around. A few minutes later Michie arrived, and as we caught up on the last two years, I savoured the near-forgotten taste of deep-fried pork on rice. Just as good as I remembered.
The following day Michie and I left Nagano for the town of Iiyama, where the rape blossom festival was taking place. It was spring, and the bright yellow blossoms quivered in the breeze against a backdrop of snow-dusted mountains. I had missed the sight of these mountains so much.
It was here we met up with our friends Makiko and Ema. Both of them brought along their babies, and we spent the day marvelling at the stunning scenery and exchanging stories.
Around lunchtime we encountered bunches of primary school students inviting us to buy one of their bentous (a Japanese-style lunchbox). But when we approached their stall, we were just in time to see the kids celebrate their final sale. Apparently they had made 80 and they had sold out really quickly. We gave them a well-deserved applause.
I was pretty excited about all the festival food around, and we sat beneath a tree and had a fantastic lunch. Though if something was missing, it was the legendary "choco banana". I remember seeing these at Japanese festivals in the past - icing/chocolate-covered bananas, only found at festivals, that look tantalisingly good. I'd never had one before, but now that I was back in Japan, I was determined to find them somewhere. Unfortunately, on this occasion, I was out of luck.
We did have strange-flavoured ice-cream, though. I had the rape blossom-flavoured ice-cream: I don't know what's more surprising - the fact that it exists, or that it tasted pretty good. I tried some of Makiko's ice-cream too, which was a delightful asparagus flavour.
Even after we were done with the blossoms, we weren't quite done with ice-cream. On the way, Ema had spotted a shop sign that said "snow carrot ice-cream" - so we packed into our cars and made a bee-line for our second sweet serving.
There were a lot of people around the shop since it was festival season. Kids were playing while parents stood around chatting. I watched as Makiko's eyes widened and she said, "I think that's a student!" It took her a bit longer to be sure, since she hadn't worked at English For You for a while either, but when she approached, the boy recognised her immediately. It was so strange bumping into an English For You student so far away from the school.
"Do you know Mitsuki?" Makiko asked me.
I stared at the boy, and he stared back. For a second it looked like he might remember me, but the moment passed and I didn't recognise him. It was too long ago.
But as we walked away from the shop, it struck me. He hadn't been one of my students, he was one of Phil's, and he looked completely different now (three years of age on a seven-year-old boy make an enormous difference). But there was no mistaking that distinctive voice. I had often played with Mitsuki in the lobby after class, and spent a lot of time with him at English For You's bus hiking event five years ago.
But I was too slow putting it all together, and I'll never know if he recognised me or not. I wondered if maybe that was a good thing. I secretly hoped that if I bumped into any of my ex-students that they would remember me.
I would have the answer to this soon enough.
The following day I caught up with my good mate Luke and met his wife and baby for the first time. Luke and I arrived in Japan around the same time and every week for three years we studied Japanese in the same class. Suddenly, it seemed, he was fluent and with a Japanese wife, while I was struggling to communicate with Emi. I don't think I did too badly. But Luke and I had so much to catch up on that I didn't get much chance to chat with Emi anyway.
I did, however, get the chance to hold their beautiful daughter Miharu.
We caught up again a few weekends later when I was back in Nagano. This time, we spent a day checking out a couple of the sights near Nagano City. The first was Kaminari Waterfall. At first Miharu seemed a bit unsure, what with all the noise - the water was really torrenting down - but she quickly adapted.
The second was the ski resort at the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful spring day, worthy of a nice walk around.
There were so many other people to see, and I realised one way to catch many of them was to drop into my old school. So that's what I did - and although my friends were busy working, we made dinner plans for that night.
I did get to see a handful of my ex-students, and similar to Mitsuki, I couldn't believe how much they had changed. Not just grown - changed. Some of them remembered me well; others barely did. A couple I didn't recognise until I was told their names.
The highlight was meeting a few of my ex-students from my famous Saturday girls class. They were a class of some of the nicest and most enthusiastic kids I've had the pleasure of teaching. I was so happy to see that now, even in high school (Year 10), they are still just as lovely. The two I spoke to were so happy to see me that they messaged another girl from that class, Ruri. Suddenly I was told I had to wait around at the school for another hour so Ruri could come and say 'hi'. It's kind of amazing, I think. We had so much fun when they were kids that as teenagers they still care about seeing me. And I was so happy to see that they have retained the spark that made them such awesome individuals and such an awesome class for so long.
On my last day in Nagano, as I was walking towards the station, I bumped into another teenage ex-student, Takahiro. I would've walked straight past him if he hadn't recognised me, and that in itself is impressive. Takahiro was in one of my classes when I first started teaching, but after 6 months he was struggling and wanted to quit the school. His mother and the school decided that he should try a few private lessons to see if he enjoyed it without the other students (who were very competitive). He remained my private student for the rest of my employment at the school, and I remember the two of us having so much fun sometimes that both of us would literally be rolling on the floor in laughter.
Five and a half years after he made the decision to quit, he still attends the school. And he, faster than anyone else, remembered who I was.
I had one more catch-up. This time it was with Yukiko (who lives right next-door to me in Shimosuwa) and our friend Hiromi, who lives in another prefecture but who was visiting Nagano at that time. We had lunch at a quaint cafe I'd never been to (with a delicious white curry!), and I got to meet Hiromi's husband and one-year-old for the first time.
(Yep, and that makes five friends' babies!)
Yukiko and I eventually caught the train back to Shimosuwa together. The train pulled up the hill, and from the window we had sweeping views of the city and the surrounding area.
I used to look upon this and think 'home' - especially when I was coming back from some far-off holiday, when I'd be looking forward to getting back to my apartment and my daily life. Now that feeling of 'home' was just a memory. I mentioned this to Yukiko.
"Do you feel the same in Shimosuwa?" she asked.
I thought about it hard. "Actually, no. Nagano City is probably my favourite place to have lived in. I still prefer it to Shimosuwa. What about you? When you get back to Shimosuwa, is it home?"
"It didn't used to be. But now I like it more than Nagano."
The train rounded the top of the mountain and Nagano City disappeared behind the trees. I stared for a moment longer before adding, "I hope someday I feel the same."
I love Ubon, too. But unlike my dilemma over leaving Ubon, I am 100% sure that leaving Nagano when I did was the right choice.
Yep...can't go backwards!
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