I don’t feel much nostalgia for Canada. I didn’t hate elementary school or high school or anything, but I don’t really look back on the time fondly. I had quite a fun time in university comparatively speaking, but I still don’t look back on this time in my life with much nostalgia either.

Nostalgia may be the wrong word, but I feel nostalgia for the kindergartens I worked in in southern Chiba from 2007-2011, and for my ex-wife’s grandparents house. These places felt distinctly Showa to me, like I was taking part in another era that was living and breathing at that time.

I worked at three kindergartens in that time, but I will only explain one of them, the smallest one. At that time, the school has three rooms for kindergarten classes, but only used three of them, one for each year: nensho, nenchu and nencho. Likewise, there were three kindergarten instructors, one office lady, and the kindergarten vice-president, who was always somewhere at one of the three kingergartens mentioned above. Two of the instructors were (when I was 23) what I considered old. In hindsight they may not have been that old: perhaps in their late 30’s or early 40’s. The third instructor changed in the time I was there, but was always young, in their 20’s, usually full of life. There was the common dynamic of the two older ones who I felt like had been there for decades scoffing at the young one for not knowing the proper way to do things.

Unfortunately my Japanese wasn’t good enough to truly communicate on a meaningful level with them, and I was imposed on them, so they didn’t always know what to do with me. I could say basic things, and so basic conversations were had, but nothing that could ever really last more than five minutes or so.

The first thing I am nostalgic for is the floor that felt sunken in some areas. Of course common in most places still, the ground level floor is raised a good 30-40cm about the actual ground. In the old kindergarten building, the wooden floor was somewhat sunken between the boards underneath that were supporting it.

The second thing I am nostalgic for is the slippers that are too small, that have the name of the kindergarten in gold lettering on them. Because I didn’t want to bring indoor shoes with me everyday, I usually just wore them.

The third thing I’m nostalgic for is the format of events and documents that I felt never changed in three or four decades. There was no reason nor motivation to change what worked, and seeing photos or certificates from many decades ago looking basically the same as what was being produced then gave an amazing sense of timelessness. The decorations for seasonal events also felt like they had been around for decades.

The fourth thing I’m nostalgic for is the monotonous. Most days were quite boring. I needed to speak English to kids, and the kids could only say “I’m fine thank you”, “I’m four”, or “My name is Kenta” or whatever. I tried to sit in the office in an awkward manner as much as possible. Ceremonies were also boring, and something that people fretted about. I thought it was silly now, but now I look back on them fondly.

The fifth thing I’m nostalgic for is being careful with money. Having long meetings where people decide what brand of tea or juice to provide if required, what sort of bento to buy, etc. As mentioned, my Japanese wasn’t very good, so I may have been subconsciously making up have of what people were saying.

For my ex-wife’s grandparent’s house, there is a similar theme. The floor was sunken in areas. There were pictures that leaned down above the paper parts of the walls (a true Japan expert would know the name of this), and these photos were from the 80’s until present. Most rooms were multi-purpose tatami rooms, but the kitchen was really the only room used, unless it was a formal dinner, in which case we sat uncomfortably around the fancy table that was brought out to one tatami room. There was the modern “HDTV” in the kitchen, 32 inches, very very huge, and it was always one. Whenever we went over there, my then grandfather in law was either starting with some Shochu, or getting there. The air conditioner was usually off in the summer, and the wind was traveling through the house. It was also off in the winter, but there was a small heater they had used. My then grandmother in law was always making simple but amazing food.

Again, there was a timelessness about it all. I often hated being there and was bored to death. Once smart phones became a thing, I was often on my smart phone there. This boringness I am also nostalgic for. With smart phones, I always needed to be stimulated, and couldn’t stand the just being and doing nothing. Taking part in a conversation that amounts to neighborhood gossip, what order to set the table in, or what we should drink, and drift in and out of watching whatever variety show was on TV.

I don’t think about these places often, but this year I am taking part in the neighbourhood association helping out with general affairs, and today we had another meeting.

The community center has the same feeling as the old kindergartens and my ex-wife’s grandparents house. The sagging floors. The tables and chairs that are being used to their fullest. The walls with certificates and names of donors framed or hung up, hanging down above the doors. The way people talk to one another and how conversation seems circular. The average age must be 70 or 80, and people are not in a hurry to finish the conversation to get back home. Despite everyone’s age, when debating topics, it feels like I’m listening to 15 year olds in a classroom trying to plan for their culture festival at high school. We (well, they) talk about the snacks we need to prepare for the summer festival for kids. The old women talk with resolve about how much costs what and where, and how the prices have changed, and how mothers and kids aren’t how they used to be. Sometimes things get heated. The head likes to speak very casually in a way I feel is at least a little put on. (I never knew “nē bē” was said outside of Chiba and Ibaraki.) And then all of it is ultimately very boring. I can’t resist to look at my smart phone just a little bit. I text my wife saying how funny the conversation is. I sent a photo of the list of names to my mom just because. It was kanji for everyone, and katakana for me, and I told her where my name was.

Anyways, I was nostalgic for it all. It reminded me of 15-16 years ago, when I was in my early twenties, and dealing with all these things. And this is when I am most nostalgic for. The beginning of my life in a new country, in old institutions. My life before coming here I for whatever reason do not have any real nostalgia for. Big houses and needing a car to go anywhere. Saying no to drugs, and being careful not to get beat up or peer pressured. There are all the punk shows I went to, but even then, I am most nostalgic for the ones that happened in Japan in the south of Chiba.