このページはフレーム対応ブラウザ用に作成されています。下のリンクは非フレーム使用ページですのでそちらをご覧ください。
この記事をプリントする
日本に残してきたもの
5年暮らした日本を離れて、9月からロンドンに移り住んだ筆者。
しかし日本での暮らしの中で、深い愛着を持つようになっていたものや人との別れに、センチメンタルな気持ちが膨らんできてしまったのだが…。
Leaving it all behind
I become attached to things easily. If my favorite Pilot pen goes missing, I feel sad. When I discovered that my favorite coffee barista quit, I panicked. And in 2007, I felt a deep sense of loss when the Ito Family TV show finished its run.
So imagine my surprise when I managed to pack up and leave Japan after five years of living there. Five years might not seem like very much to some, but it is long enough to accumulate, and get attached to a lot of stuff.
I had a lot of stuff — clothes, books, knick-knacks and junk —I had to sort through before I left Japan. The act of going through each and every item, turning it over in my hands and deciding if it would come with me or not was often time-consuming and heart-breaking, especially when I had to throw something out or leave it behind. I'm a sentimental person, and it was even difficult to part with things like the kitchen utensils a former host mother gave me.
I left Japan once before when I returned to New Zealand after a year of studying in Osaka. During that year, I was unsure when I would return and had hoarded every possible item that reminded me of Japan. I shipped home things like ticket stubs, labels from drink bottles and receipts from karaoke sessions. This time around, even though there were no receipts, I was attached to even more stuff — things like my toaster oven, rice-cooker and my hairdresser. None made it with me to London, although several sushi-shaped cushions I bought from a 100 yen store have. I guess something had to give.
It has been almost two months since I began settling into my new home, and I'm wondering when I will feel homesick for Japan. It was not easy leaving, and I think I only truly realized that I was leaving for good when I handed over my alien registration card at the airport. I was fairly composed until that point, upon which I started to get a little teary-eyed, embarrassing both myself and the customs official. He smiled bashfully as he took my card with both hands and tried not to make eye-contact — he was probably afraid that I would want a comforting hug from him.
But maybe I didn't need that hug. Surrounded by sushi-shaped cushions, and having already located my nearest Uniqlo, Muji and supplier of natto, I think that no matter how well you pack, and no matter how much stuff you throw out, once you've experienced Japan and your head is filled with such wonderful memories, nothing gets left behind
- Leave 〜 behind
- 〜を置いていく
- become attached to 〜
- 〜に愛着を抱いてしまう
- Pilot pen
- パイロット社製のペン
- barista
- エスプレッソをいれる職人
- quit
- 仕事を辞めた
- sense of loss
- 喪失感
- Ito Family TV show
- 『伊東家の食卓』(=1998-2007年に日本テレビで放送された教養バラエティー番組)
- run
- 放送
- pack up
- 荷物をまとめる
- accumulate
- (持ち物を)増やす
- stuff
- もの
- knick-knacks
- 小物
- junk
- がらくた
- sort through
- 選り分ける
- going through 〜
- 〜を吟味すること
- turning it over in my hands
- 手に取ってためつすがめつして
- kitchen utensils
- 台所用品
- had hoarded
- 〜をため込んだ
- ticket stubs
- 切符の半券
- hairdresser
- 美容師
- None made it with me to London
- どれもロンドンへは持っていけなかった
- began settling into 〜
- 〜に落ち着きだした
- handed over 〜
- 〜を差し出した
- alien registration card
- 外国人登録証
- (was)composed
- 平静だった
- embarrassing 〜
- 〜を当惑させて
- smiled bashfully
- 照れ笑いをした
- comforting
- 気持ちを慰める
- hug
- 抱擁
- (having)located
- 〜を見つけて
- Muji
- 無印良品
- supplier
- 販売店
- nothing gets left behind
- 残してきたものは何もないのだ