Lived in Hiroshima for a year as a student. I lived in a filing cabinet of a dorm, but even that had a tub big enough for both my knees and shoulders to be underwater. I dated a few women, some of which were worse for me than others. Public transportation was great. I learned Argentine Tango from a Chilean woman whose husband was a fake priest for weddings. I took classes just to pick up vocabulary. I learned to love Okonomiyaki.

It also made me realize everywhere that its own issues. I became disenchanted with it. By the end of the year, I knew I wouldn’t be looking to try and live there permanently.

I was also depressed and didn’t realize it. So that sucked a lot of joy out of it and I drank a bunch.