Sweet Potatoes and Bad News

It's over. I have received the order to go home. Our flight is on Sunday. It's been an amazing seven months and I'm incredibly sad that my adventure has to come to a halting stop.

We've spent the past day pretty much packing everything up. The apartment looks so empty. This place, this whole town, really felt like home to me. I'm really going to miss Tokyo. I wish everything was back to normal...

Since we're leaving, I've been thinking a lot about all of the little things I'll miss. Such as the music coming from the truck of whom we call the yakiimo (baked sweet potato) man. Just as I was thinking about it, I heard the song. Realizing this was probably the last chance I'll get to try the sweet potatoes, I decided to chase him down. Whenever I catch the ice cream truck, I'm so used to having to run really fast. However, the trucks here go at the speed of a snail. He was about right in front of my apartment by the time I made it down the four flights of stairs. I started walking over to him, wallet in hand, and he made a face like 'are you coming to me?' He rolled down his window, greeted me, put down his cigarette and got out of the truck.

He asked me how many I wanted and I told him two. He told me they were really good and I told him it was my first (and unfortunately will be my only) time eating them. He assured me again that they were really good and pulled out two for me. He weighed them on the scale hanging on the back of his truck and I paid for the two based on their weight, 500 yen.

I really wasn't sure what to expect when I took my first bite, but my first comment about them was how sweet they are. Since I had just eaten an onigiri for dinner, I ate about half of it? Hard to imagine me of all people eating a real vegetable!