The human brain is fascinating. Well, just about everything about the human body is. But being the 'geek' that I am, the brain is perhaps the one that I find most interesting. I can't understand how anyone can think that such complex systems all started from one random big bang. Anyway, that's not what I'm here for today.
It is the brain's system of cataloging memories that I was thinking about. How you remember things you don't want to, but can't remember those you want to. At one point you try to remember something and you can't, then other times memories just show up.
I've heard it said that smell and sound are the strongest memory triggers. You're there going on with your life, and a tiny little smell, like a time machine carries you to a different time and place. Or it's a sound, and BAM… you're a time traveler.
For me tonight as I was preparing to bed this song came on, and it took me far away. A distant time and place.
The trigger: Deeper by Israel and New Breed
When: August 2010
Where: Tokyo, Japan
It was the day of end of term, our first term of Japanese language school.
I'd only had a smartphone for a few months, and the earphones were never too far from my ears. Even this time as I walked with my friends from school to the train station, it was no different. Earphone in one ear, playing my music and chatting as we walked along. Then this song comes on, and I liked the piano intro. Without realizing I'd phased out of the conversation as I took in the song, and my hands were now raised in worship.
It was a nice day. We were all excited for the next two weeks of our short summer break. On our way home we stopped by an Indian restaurant for an all-you-can-eat lunch to celebrate.
My 'time machine' took me around a little more. Through a few more nice memories from that year in Tokyo. Exciting times those were. A land of technology and convenience. A bunch of 'villager' international students with our new iPhones, commuter train passes to see the sights and scenes of the city… the warm showers, air conditioners, unlimited internet back at the dorm… playing one of the wise men in Christmas production… this Ugandan villager was having the time of his life.
There was no shortage of new experiences. From failing to finish my extra-spicy Sri Lankan curry lunch my first day at the cafeteria, shopping at a 100 yen store where everything seemed so cheap, Saturday afternoons chilling in the park, trying (and failing) to eat rice with chopsticks, window-shopping (occasionally actually shopping) in the massive electronics department stores… we enjoyed those days.
It wasn't all great though. With those hands raised that summer afternoon, it was in part the feeling of freedom. We were getting our first real break in months, from an intensive language education.
Two weeks into the course, if there had been a way out, I'm pretty sure I would have quit. You see, heading to Japan, I knew I had to learn the language but I didn't realize that it included learning a completely new system of writing. I thought I could just spell words out in the alphabet and all would be okay. Boy, was I wrong. There were three types of wiggly characters to learn; hiragana, katakana, and the Chinese ones called kanji. They look like this 懐かしいな！。
That Wednesday, third day of Kanji, starting to comprehend the magnitude of the mountain before me, I was like "what have I done?!" We had just gone through the latest installment of 8, bringing the total to 24, starting to forget the first ones and wondering if I could memorize all of them. Only to learn that was just 24 out of the over 1,200 kanji in our course. Oh, wow!
Have you ever wished life had a "Ctrl+Z"? That was one of them for me. In pursuit of 'my architecture dream' I'd left my okay course at Makerere for what?!.
By the way, before it got to that point, I'd some other "Ctrl+Z" moments. Our first language class started with the very was basics, from zero. Self-introductions, basic vocabulary like "book" and so on. It should have been okay if all of us in the class were at zero. But then there were some who'd taken a few months of classes in their countries before coming to Japan, and they wanted us to know it.
For example, teacher teaches us, "Konnichiwa, watashi wa Jonathan desu. Uganda kara kimashita" (Hello, I am Jonathan. I come from Uganda). I struggle and manage to say it. Then this next fellow quickly says "Hajimemashite, watashi no namae was DK desu. Cambodia-jin desu. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu". (My name is DK. I am Cambodian. It's a pleasure to meet you all). I turn and look at John, my friend from Kenya, and we share a confused look, but also of despair. Like what was that?!
Next day it's counting. While I'm still struggling to get 1, 2, 3, the other guy is counting to 10 and then backwards to 1. Those guys messed with our heads for the few weeks before we caught up.
Looking back at my time in Japan, inevitably I think about some of the many challenges I encountered over the nine years. From the completely new and extremely difficult language, to moving a place where I was the only black person in the college, and in the surrounding few kilometers radius (wider radius if you look for Africans only), the obvious homesickness and challenges that come with living in another country alone, the tormenting migraines, then the depression, the months I was really angry at God, then losing the love for architecture… it was a lot.
But then, thinking about it now, it brings a smile to my face. I faced those challenges and more, and God brought me through. Although 2020 hasn't been the easiest year, God has brought me through worse. 2012, 2015, 2017… Eh, only God and my journal know.
As I count down to the end of the year, this is a timely reminder for me that God is faithful. He has kept me, and He will continue to do so. 2020 and the COVID it brought with it might have been disruptive, but God is above all this. Job 42:2. No plan of His can be thwarted. I'm still on course for God's plan for me.
That day in August, we were heading home after doing end of term exams. At that time I didn't know, but I had just done well, well enough to be promoted to "Class 22". It was the best of the four classes (22-25) for the beginner course, for us who had started from little to zero knowledge of the language. Things continued to get better, so much that at the end of the course in March, I was top of the group. Testament to how God kept me, how He lifted me, sustained me. He will do it again.
Into your hands, Lord, I commit. Take me, take my everything, use me for your glory. Teach me to trust you and remain in you, that I shall live to fulfil your purpose for my life. Amen
At the language school gate
At my desk in Class 22.
On a class trip to the Disaster Preparedness Training Center.
On the way to school one morning.
