2020 was a year that jumped the tracks in so many ways. An example of this was our inability to say a proper goodbye to our friends and acquaintances before we left Tennessee in early July. Almost eight months have passed since we returned to Japan. Time has granted some perspective. I am grateful for the time we spent in the Tri-Star state because we all had so many good experiences to take with us. Here are some thoughts and "nice memory" snapshots.
What I learned? I had two and a half years to
work and live in my native workplace culture and get reacquainted with North
America. It was a reality check and a personal reboot. I was, in effect, no
longer an expat in the social sense because I was re-immersed in the media,
sports, food, entertainment and many cultural touchstones I grew up with. To be
sure, Tennessee is geographically and psychologically far from my native soil
in the Great White North. But I reveled in the civility and friendliness of the
people I met. In the age of Trump, I avoided political discussions—that served
me well. As a Canadian chameleon I could soak up most everything about the local culture, sample
the Southern way of life, and enjoy many shared social touchstones. Yet I never
hesitated to play the “I’m a foreigner” card to extricate myself when necessary. More than anything else, I found that I
had much more in common with my American co-workers and friends than not. In many
ways, I felt the closest to home than I have since I left Canada in 1996 to work
overseas.
The Rising Family’s™ experience? I think Naomi enjoyed it. She had her own friends from the Japanese expatriate community as support, along with many local friends. Language was never an issue. Driving everywhere was new to her. She stared down the challenges that came. Strong lady!
The Rising Daughters™ blossomed. The language bedrock they established in India was strengthened and layered with social fertilizer from Tennessee. School was important, of course. Both daughters made good friends. They benefited way beyond English fluency in the Williamson County schools. They maintained mental ties to Japan through many Saturdays spent at the Japanese School of Middle Tennessee. That meant six days a week at school, but ultimately worth it, as we have found out since our return to Yokohama. Their time in Nolensville will benefit them for the rest of their lives.
The snapshots:
I saw for myself the South I had read about
in Pat Conroy and John Berendt novels, but in a modern context.
Tennessee’s nickname is the Volunteer State.
I always felt I’d contributed to the greater good after a few shifts at
local food banks around Christmastime and following the tornado that hit in
March 2020.
We rented a large, beautiful house. Depending
on the season, our backyard was visited by deer, birds, occasional flocks of
turkeys, random neighborhood dogs on a jailbreak, rabbits, and our foes,
groundhogs.
I learned that southerners take their lawns
and gardening seriously.
Our immediate neighborhood was in reality
very diverse, with people coming from Tennessee, them Yankee states up north,
Egypt, Ghana, India and -- hell yes -- Alabama!
And music. Oh the music! Sun Studios and
Graceland in Memphis; the Johnny Cash museum; and constant local reminders that
Nashville is The Music City. Along with live music enjoyed on Music Row downtown,
I also went to concerts I will never forget (Weezer, The Pixies, Cowboy Junkies,
and the blues at BB King’s Club).
Medical care. I saw world-class medical care in
action thanks to the Vanderbilt University Medical center.
The food. Memphis wet BBQ versus Nashville
dry rub? Biscuits at the Loveless Café? Tastebuds won, but the loser was my waistline,
which grew to epic new proportions.
Iced tea is appropriate for all meals and you
start drinking it immediately after you’re born. I’m partial to “half and half.”
Our favorite restaurant: Vinh-Long, a
Vietnamese-Japanese restaurant in east Nashville that captured our hearts.
Unassuming vibe, friendly and family-run, cash-only. Somehow this is the place
that worked for us all, particularly on the way home from our frequent
excursions to the Nashville Flea Market. Spring rolls and Vietnamese coffee,
shrimp tempura and pho for the ladies.
I learned this at Publix and Kroger: it’s is
not a shopping cart! It is a “buggy.”
Motorcycle trips on lonely back highways only
5 minutes from our house. The pinnacle of my motorcycle journeys was a Natchez
Trace return trip over one weekend. But
seeing small towns in Tennessee and Mississippi was unforgettable.
Ya’ll is singular. All ya’ll is plural.
So long, Tennessee, and thank you.
