I spent the day roaming the island. There was a red metal bridge across an empty river. Each step across the bridge gave a concerning bounce as I made my way to a roadside shrine. I left my coins in the cup before the gate and made my prayers. I entered the shrine alone— no one around for miles.

I’ve signed my contract for another year. That’ll take me to two years on the island. As I drive along the winding backroads with the crisp autumn air. The first mikans of winter started to blossom on the limbs of the roadside trees. They doted the landscape with spots of orange.

I’ve settled into my classes. I’ve got five different schools that I go to. There are about 105 different teachers and 250 students I have in my schools. The names are slowly in remembering— especially when they’re offered once and quickly.

I went into this program with an open mind. My future plans had no obvious form— the options seemed endless. But as time has gone on— I’ve felt more assured that two years will be all I need over here.