Karaoke, Inboxes and the meaning of nine months

I am back from karaoke with my class. It's strange to see these people who day in day out I catch glimpses of - in our ten minute breaks, as we mutter away in Japanese trying to use bizarre grammatical structures, out in the real world. We chat over Korean BBQ and as the majority are taiwanese they dominate - chatting in the ups and downs and sways of chinese. A year ago I couldn't have told you Japanese from Korean from Chinese - but now sat in this restaurant screeching and chattering it seems so clear - and I wonder if I'll ever be the same again after this whole experience is over.

My inbox is always a sign of where my mind is focused - split between two or three people I still regularly devour conversation with, and the rest full of emails from here - about UNIFEM volunteering and yoga meetings and Kaiwa class homework. And so many people put on pause - lost in the distant space between emails and phone calls. Nine months is supposed to be a turning point - when you realise that this is a place you love or you hate. I still don't know. I just know I'm hooked and I don't know if another year here is long enough to ease my craving. Right now there's no where else I can imagine being.