Who needs 'em?

The ocean laps melodically against the white sand beach. It's night, and although the sky is cloudy, the moon has managed to peak through the haze and cast a beam where I am sitting.

I dig my toes into the sand to reach the coolness of the damper layers. This is nice. The beach is empty -- for the moment I'm the only one sitting on it. The rest of us are back at the campsite a few hundred yards away. I can hear them laughing in the background. The ocean muffles the clarity of their words.

I sip my wine and think about everything I left behind. A degree. A future. A lot of bad memories.

I lay back and let the sand hug me while the wine seeps into my body. There's nothing better than sitting ocean-side, listening to the waves, on a quiet warm summer night.

The clouds begin to part and the sky opens up to me. I stare at the stars and try to make out the constellations that I recognize from a more northern sky. I start to see some of them -- I think; but they are much lower on the horizon. Some of them are only half-visible from where I am; alone on a beach, in Southern Japan.

I sit up to pour some more wine into my plastic cup and let the warm ocean breeze brush against my face. The wine is taking its toll on me. I smile, giddy in all that I've accomplished: a jaunt across the world. The formation of new friendships. Life is nothing but a world of possibilities.

"Hey, Loser!" she yells at me as she stumbles from the campsite and through the sand, "What the hell are you doing out here by yourself?"

She laughs and plunks down beside me, beer in hand. We cheers each other and I tell her, "I'm just enjoying the ocean. There's no ocean where I come from -- and it's pretty amazing here." I say.

"Ah..." she nods. She gets it. There's no ocean where she comes from as well, but since Sue has been here a year ahead of me; this particular wonder has become a norm to her.

"So," she asks, "how are you liking it so far?"

"What? Japan?" I respond. There's always a chance of misunderstanding once alcohol is factored in.

"Yes, dummy! Japan!" she snorts back and chugs from her beer.

"It's alright. I could do without the typhoons..." I say half-jokingly, "and the earthquakes!" I laugh.

I've been placed in what is affectionately known as typhoon highway. So, needless to say -- the summer months that are otherwise known as "hope and pray" are very interesting.

"You homesick yet?" she asks and chucks her beer bottle into the water -- not to litter, but to create a game for herself as the water rushes it back up to her feet. "I love doing that!" she says. She puts the beer bottle out of the ocean's reach -- grabs my wine bottle and begins to wade into the water.

"Come on!" Sue encourages.

I roll up my capris and trek out into the dark water. The white sand bottom reflects through the moonlight. In a minute we are 100 meters out, and in above our knees.

"This is awesome!" I tell her, as I spin around in the water.

"You never answered my question," she taunts with concern, "are you homesick?"

"Not yet!" I tell her. The truth was that I'd only been here for about three weeks, so it was way too soon to be missing home. I had so much exploring to do over here. My mission was to find myself. Cliche, but true. I was on a path that lacked any authenticity back home, and so -- juxtaposed in a world where I didn't belong; where everything was strange and foreign, I was going to find the truth of who I really was. I was more excited than anything else.

I get Sue to fill up my cup and we walk and talk in the water as the night rolls closer to midnight. The stars are a bit higher in the horizon so I ask her to point out some familiar constellations. She can't, but we both agree that it is really bizarre how low the Big Dipper sits in the horizon.

Back home I would have to strain my head and look straight up at this time of year -- but here, on this beach in one of the southernmost areas of Japan, the Big Dipper barely sits higher than the tree tops. I sip some more wine and try not to be too concerned about it.

"So, you have a boyfriend back home?" Sue asks. I have a feeling that her and I are going to become good friends. I hope so. She seems really fun.

"God, no!" I shudder. I laugh as I think of the last loser I dated; and how he was more concerned with looking cool to his friends than he ever was about gaining my respect. I shake my head; very glad to be far far away from those pathetic options.

"Who needs 'em?" she laughs and swigs from the wine bottle. And as we walk back towards the beach, the stars delight us as they dance along the water's surface. I take a swig from the bottle as well.

"Who needs 'em!" I shout back, slightly tipsy.

And with that, we head back to the campsite.