New Arrival Impressions

New Arrival Impressions: Omicron and a Beatles Bonenkai

Ethan Robinson

The view out of my hotel window looked out to an office building, where for two weeks I enjoyed a cut-out view of the daily life of a typical Tokyo salaryman. Every morning at 7:15 the doorbell to my room rang and there was a knock at my door. I brought in my bagged breakfast, and promptly at 7:30am, the lights came on in the office building, where workers ushered into the large open office spaces. The sun always set at 5:00pm, and all of the salary workers had mostly cleared out of the offices by 7:00, a few staying until as late as 9:30. It was easy to feel disassociated from the outside world, as each day Tokyo felt more like a set piece than reality, a city behind glass that I could see but not touch.

I’m sure the dozens of other quarantined JETs felt the same, and least to say, I was relieved to finally arrive in Akita. Exactly a week later, Japan’s borders were closed in the wake of the new omicron variant of COVID-19.

Those of us that arrived in November are incredibly lucky, as countless other JETs who were slated to arrive in December were left behind, some of whom have been waiting since Spring 2020. After nearly two years of waiting on borders to open and our arrival in Japan to even be remotely possible, the entry of omicron was a harsh reminder that our lives are totally at the mercy of a global pandemic. I am very conscious of my own luck and am blessed to be in Japan, having applied to the JET program after my graduation in December 2020. But countless other JETs are not so lucky.

A quick glance at the JET reddit page and you’ll see that many lost their jobs, their savings, or even their apartments after months of delays and scheduled arrivals being abruptly

canceled. For many the JET program is nothing more than a pipe dream, and some have major complaints about how the program has handled its communications. While the delays are hugely unfortunate and many complaints have good reason, I think blaming the program or Japan’s strict COVID policies is ultimately futile. We all want the satisfaction of something singular to blame when huge global forces beyond our control throw our lives off course.

Ever since my arrival in Mitane, the people in the community frequently ask if I’m keeping warm, if I’m eating enough and if I’m settling well into my new home. On Christmas eve, I went to the local izakaya expecting just to have a donburi and a beer, but some locals and parents of my students immediately recognized me and ushered me to join them. Having spent part of my life in the rural United States, I think you would be hard-pressed to find an American small town today that treats its foreigners with the same amount of kindness. Every country has its bad examples, but Japanese culture broadly has a genuine sense of civic duty and community, qualities that I think the United States in particular could learn from amidst a pandemic and increasing global crises.

In the middle of 2021, travel had only just begun to be a possibility again. After two years of isolation, vaccinations and relaxing restrictions gave us some hope of enjoying vacations and global travel. We are a globalist world connected through the internet and social media, but

Covid-19 showed us how isolating and narrow-minded our daily lives can be. Like a toddler forgetting an object is there when you throw a blanket over it, we forget that other people exist in the world, that there are real people and whole other societies outside our limited locus of attention.

Meeting the people in Mitane has shown me this and has been a true lesson in human connection after two years of coronavirus. People are not objects that suddenly exist when you see them. Everyone in the world has been living with the same shared struggles, the same wants and desires. As many of us in Akita are foreigners outside our home countries, I think we have a unique opportunity to strive towards mindfulness and social empathy, qualities that I think have become increasingly important.

In the middle of December, my junior high school held a bonenkai, which was their first enkai since before the pandemic. With all of the customary speeches and jokes and drinking, I got the distinct impression of relief from my coworkers, that this bonenkai was more than just a closer to the school year but a well-deserved respite from the difficulties and restrictions of Covid-19. Of course, our ability to celebrate together was a luxury compared to the rest of the world’s continuing struggle. But if 2021 was a lesson in anything, it was to take the good with the bad, to accept the ebb and flow and contradictions.

At the bonenkai I was also invited to play the guitar with my science teacher, who loves heavy metal. We combined our skills– I sang “Hey Jude” and played acoustic, while he belted out a solo on his Flying V electric guitar. Everyone loved it. We bowed, and my science teacher said band name was “OMICRON”, a name we agreed was the most hardcore heavy metal band name. But as the semester ends, OMICRON will probably not be having

a second concert, as the real omicron variant makes a massive surge in Japan. Not all heavy metal band names are in good taste, but our musical debut certainly was freeing, and damn fun while it lasted.

I’ve frequently heard Akita referred to as the “Real Japan” and I wonder what people mean by this. What does the “real” Japan look like? I spent five years of my childhood in Sapporo, from ages eleven to sixteen, so I understand the unique feelings and images that the inaka presents to city dwellers. The tanbo rice fields, the ubiquitous and quiet shrines, and mountain trails on spectacular valley vistas–all of these contradict the mainstream aesthetic of Japan as a techno metropolis. In December, I only recently discovered michi no eki, a countryside staple that I never encountered during my time in Sapporo. Japan contains multitudes and contradictions beyond the neon skyscrapers of Tokyo. From michi no eki and towering office blocks, to Christmas eve izakayas and Beatles bonenkais. All of Japan is the real Japan, and I am truly excited to discover the unique gifts that Akita has to offer. May our unique times in Akita be the best times of 2022!

*Photos courtesy of Ethan Robinson