life on a stratovolcano ^{oshima edition}

About a month ago, I made what was quite possibly the most difficult decision of my life — I decided not to recontract. Why would I give up my cushy, secure, hardly-working island job in the middle of a horrible recession? Simply put, I can’t stand not being able to relate to people anymore.

It honestly has very little to do with the cultural differences — sure there are many, but those are things that can be adapted to easily, and in doing so, make you a stronger person. Rather, it’s the age difference of myself and the other islanders. The way that Oshima’s society works is that people grow up on the island, only ever knowing the 90 square kilometers or so of beaches, lava rock, and old ladies. This makes for quite a depressing life, so people tend to leave the island as soon as they graduate high school, either moving on to university or getting a job in Tokyo.

Oshima, however, is a wonderful place to raise a family, so once they’ve gotten hitched, they return to the island to start pumping out babies. Unfortunately, this makes social contact pretty difficult, since you have this large gap between 18 and 30 years old that is completely unfilled. It’s almost like losing a whole generation to war — there just isn’t anyone around my age here. They’re really conspicuously absent.

Tokyo has been my savior in this respect, as I am able to go there at least once or twice a month, allowing me to connect with people my own age. But this disconnection has been a tremendous learning experience for me — my best friend here is 52 years old. I hang out with 35-year-olds on a regular basis. I’m starting to break down the socially constructed age barriers that dominate our thoughts and perceptions of people. I’m starting to realize that we all really are the same.

Regardless, though, I am at a different point in my life from these people. They’re all settled down, and I’m just beginning to explore the world. There’s not too terribly much that I have in common with anyone. Honestly, the people of Oshima are extremely generous, kind, and friendly, but they lack a certain quality that allows me to get too close to anyone: much in common. Honestly, I think if I stay here for too much longer, I’ll start going a little crazy. I know that some of my social skills are starting to dull — it’s more difficult for me to tell stories, for example — and those are my most valuable asset.

So, I’ve got about five months and counting until departure. I’ll definitely miss this place, but it’s the right decision for me.