A dense selection of sake from Rihaku headquarters in Matsue.

I woke up the next morning a little sore from all of the dancing and had the slight film of a hangover. Like my first day there, the house was buzzing with activity. I ate my breakfast with the family like I did every day since I arrived, got cleaned up and said my goodbyes to Yutaka and Haruka who had work. Our parting was short, sweet, and sincere. Grandma Setsu had long since left to attack the day, but I knew she wished me well. I love her spirit.

An abandoned shrine in Fukutomi-cho, Matsue near the Suzuki’s.

The ride to Izumo Airport was a solemn affair. There wasn’t much said, because there wasn’t much to say. This was goodbye and I believe we had come to love each other as family deeply, without pretension in our short time together. There had been a running joke on the trip about Japanese people’s propensity to wave one goodbye until both parties could no longer be seen. I had seen numerous examples of this, from leaving our bus driver and seeing our chaperons off on the train the day before, the Japanese would actually do this and seemed to enjoy it.