Creating a new routine

I have always been a creature of habit with a bit of a wild streak.  I like new adventures and experiences, but I tend to surround them with a daily routine.  For example, I enjoy taking a different route to places I go a lot because it adds a little variety. Or trying a familiar dish at a new restaurant.  My husband always makes fun of me for this.  He says I am a coward.  I say I just want to find the best whatever dish.  Really, he is right.  I am only okay with so much adventure at one time.

So what happens then when you move into a completely new and drastically different culture?  You grasp at every repeating occurrence to try and create a new routine.  For me, these are the people I see almost every day on my morning commute.  There is the old man who taps the warning sign as he passes it on the escalator at Koboroguchi Station.  He is not coming to take the train.  He just goes up the escalator, hits the sign on the way, then stops at the station window and stares out for a few minutes before going back down and continuing with his day.  Sometimes he looks at his phone so he might be waiting for a call, but I have never heard him say a word. 

There is the large man with the white driving cap who always sits in the same spot on the subway and fans himself.  He has a fabulous goatee and dresses in very nice khaki or light brown three quarter pants, a white t-shirt with a simple, but colorful, design, and a pastel linen over shirt.  He reminds me of a good family friend from Louisiana.  He has kind eyes and a dignified air.  Maybe one day I will actually talk to him. 

Then there is the high school student who gets on my bus and immediately falls asleep.  I always worry he will miss his stop.  But somehow he wakes up just in time. 

Finally, there is the extremely near sighted woman who squints at Japanese magazines as we bounce down the road.  Of all my fellow commuters, I think she has made the biggest impression.  She was the first to say hello to me after a few days of riding together. I often wonder where she goes when she gets off our bus.  Maybe work.  Wherever it is, I look forward to seeing her smiling face every weekday morning.

Whether they know it or not, these individuals have been incorporated into my daily routine.  They are road signs to make sure I am on the right bus or train.  But more than that, they are familiar faces in a world full of strangers.  I don't know their names.  I have never spoken to most of them.  But they are precious to me.  When they are absent, I worry about them.  It makes my day seem off in a way I cannot explain.  In a world of new experiences, these strangers have become my constants.