I heart you, Japan

I was headed to bed, but I can't sleep.

On my way up the stairs, my eyes caught a glimpse of the picture in our downstairs restroom that I've looked at a million times.

Its of a bike, in an alley.

There are two walls that line the narrow path.

On the back of the wall, the white siding of a house.

On the bike, slightly tilted, a basket.

There's stones that cover the path.

And the reflector of the bike glimmers slightly against the sun.

Purple flower flank the sides.

Koriyama.

2006.

Shaun and I - our two week trip to Japan. And I stood staring, trying to take Japan all back in at once, as if I could find it there in that alley somewhere, if I only could stare hard enough, long enough.

I turned around, flicked the hall light back on, opened the laptop, and here I am.

Restless. Realizing the place Shaun and I vowed to return to as we said goodbye to our new friends and family ... It makes me horribly sad. Because we have always had every intention of returning. And now. Now. I don't think anybody knows that answer.

There is nothing spectacular about the picture. Most people would be hard-pressed to know it was even Japan by looking at it. And its one of my favorite pictures, in a series I took of alleyways and labyrinths that snaked through the backsides of the towns. There was something real about those alleyways, something intimate that I can't explain - that shed a little light on the people with each one we passed. With each one we walked down. Shaun and I have never been the kinds to hit up the fanny-toting tourist hot spots. We like to hang with the locals, in local settings, blending in as well as we can to experience the day to day life of wherever it is we happen to find ourselves. That's where the adventure lies in it for us. That place where - getting lost means actually finding a small piece of yourself you never knew you were missing. Each time I find myself somewhere new, I feel as though I've claimed another small piece of me.

Japan was no exception.

We fell in love with Koriyama and the people so deeply, we bypassed the second part of our trip, which was to stay in Tokyo for the latter half of the second week. It was a place so foreign, yet felt so much like home to us.

I think about where we would be if we had decided to pursue moving there. If Shaun had decided to take up residence as an English teacher, like we talked about, like they all wanted us to. Crazy ...

I think its impossible to not leave a little piece of your heart behind when you fall in love with

a place.

When you fall in love with

the people.

When it exceeds every expectation you thought you knew you had.

That's how Shaun and I feel about Japan. About the people. But specifically, about Koriyama, a place and people that welcomed us with such open arms and hearts. Who taught us and laughed with us. Who cooked meals and picked up our tabs. Who proudly showed us their city, their home, their customs and proud traditions.

A town that our friends have fled for fear of radiation exposure.

Homes that they can no longer live in.

A family restaurant, where we spent so many amazing nights, that is no more.

Streets that we walked, littered with crumbled pieces of buildings.

The schools we visited, that we spoke at ... now shelters for the fleeing.

(Koriyama resides north of Tokyo in the Fukushima Prefecture. Its approximately 40 miles from where the nuclear plant that is melting down is located, and is the next major city next to Sendai, one of the hardest hit cities closest to the epicenter of the quake.)

And with every new video image, picture and news report that has come out within the past few days, our hearts have

sank

a little

bit deeper.

We are beyond devastated for our friends.

We are beyond devastated for their country.

Its hard to find the right words to explain how completely that place changed us. That it opened our eyes. That it made us step outside of ourselves and the see the world from a completely different place. And we were in awe. I'm forever grateful we decided to make that trip.

I remember Missy seeing the pictures Shaun and I took when she came to visit a few short months later. She said she couldn't believe how we made every day, normal, ugly things like alleys and old houses look so beautiful. I told her simply "Because it is beautiful."

And it was.

And it is.

We spoke again tonight. We talked about the past weeks events, how they were holding up, what was going on there. And in true style, in true grace, we also laughed, and after I few I love you's, she spoke with Sully, and she promised him that Japan would be beautiful again for when he comes. For when we return.

And it will be.

Because it is.