We are still acclimating to New York, jet lag gripping our ankles, making our every step labored and slow. It’s already been one week, but going backwards in time is grueling. We left Tokyo at 7:30 on a Tuesday night and arrived in NYC at 7:00 that same Tuesday night. I don’t really understand why the change is so taxing on the body, going to Japan, jumping ahead in time, isn’t half as difficult. But this feels like running against the wind on a grand scale, like challenging the direction of the earth's rotation, if that were somehow possible.
On my first day out in New York I am struck by the sight of so many curves. Japan is not a land of hips and bellies. For the past five weeks I felt like the only woman in the country with a sizeable ass. Not everyone is bone thin, but it does appear to be the norm. Japanese legs somehow bypass the butt altogether and connect directly to the back, an anatomical feat I may never understand.
Riding the subway is a surreal experience; I can understand what people are saying! At first I think I am reading their minds. This is amazing. I’m a super hero! Oh wait, it's English, my native tongue. But still it feels miraculous to understand and to be understood. The first few days back I am uncharacteristically extroverted and chatty with strangers, delighting in how effortless communication can be.
For Uta being home has meant one thing, Legos!
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