Time to Go Home
There are many times in the past few weeks that I have wanted to write about the numerous adventures (big and small) that I have had during the past month, but a fatal mixture of anxiety and apathy have stilled my fingers and my brain. But seeing as this is supposed to be a (very) generalized chronicle of my life, to remain silent any longer would prove insincere. Though many of you already know this, the truth is that I decided last fall that a full year in Japan was enough for me. As of January 31st, I will once more reside in Chicago.
The decision to leave Japan was not an easy one. But the real issue that dogged my 2009 was that of my middling health. Last year was very difficult for me to say the very least, but it ended on a high note. I got the medical attention I needed and am optimistic that I will continue to mend and heal over the coming months. Being at home with my friends and near(er) to my family will certainly help put my mind at ease, though the idea of job hunting is daunting as always. (Seriously, as if I didn't get enough of unemployment last February...)
As I look around my apartment, it's hard to think that I will leave it forever in just a little over 2 weeks. After all, practically everything in here belongs to the landlord, my dear Dr. Hayashi. My belongings do little more than clutter the place up. (I think it may be time for a great purge when I return to Chicago; my storage unit and my parents' basement are full of crap that I neither need nor want.)
Today marked an interesting milestone: the day I met my replacement at work. His name is Paul and he's tall and gangly and genki. My kids will love him. I hope. But I will dearly miss so many of my kids. I have given a few of them my email address and hope that they will keep in touch. It's hard to sit in my classroom and know that as much as it *feels* like my classroom, it really isn't my classroom at all, and never has been.
Unbelievably, my last week of work is next week. It seems impossible that my departure is so near. I think back to what I was doing this time last year, and though the situation is virtually identical, I feel like my life and mindset are so completely different I can't even truly compare the past two Januarys of my life.
January 2009: In Chicago, I was preparing to leave my family and friends for an indefinite period of time; perhaps years. My boyfriend and I were trying hard to avoid the crushing sadness of saying farewell to each other, and to our relationship. My last day at Mother McGraw was the 16th, and I arrived in Yokohama on the 30th. I was looking forward to exploring more of Japan and relearning the shamisen. I had no job prospects and meager savings. I had no work visa and few contacts. I had no idea how I was going to get my luggage to my apartment, or even where my apartment was. But I was determined to make the situation work, no matter what. And somehow I did.
January 2010: In Yokohama, I am preparing to return to my family and friends, while leaving new friends behind. My boyfriend and I have reunited (after more trials and tribulations than I care to think about over the past year) and are eager to get back to our life together. My last day at GEOS will be the 22nd, and I will return to Chicago on the 31st. I am not looking forward to the bitter cold and snowy weather of Chicago. I will miss the safety and convenience of Japan, but still think America is more exciting than Japan in many ways. (Japan is weird, but in America anything can happen.) I have many people who care about me who will help me get my feet back on the ground and hopefully a good job opportunity will come knocking in the coming months.
Keep your fingers crossed for me, everyone. I am going to need a lot of support and TLC to get through the coming months, but I still have hope that 2010 will prove to be the beginning of a great decade.
The decision to leave Japan was not an easy one. But the real issue that dogged my 2009 was that of my middling health. Last year was very difficult for me to say the very least, but it ended on a high note. I got the medical attention I needed and am optimistic that I will continue to mend and heal over the coming months. Being at home with my friends and near(er) to my family will certainly help put my mind at ease, though the idea of job hunting is daunting as always. (Seriously, as if I didn't get enough of unemployment last February...)
As I look around my apartment, it's hard to think that I will leave it forever in just a little over 2 weeks. After all, practically everything in here belongs to the landlord, my dear Dr. Hayashi. My belongings do little more than clutter the place up. (I think it may be time for a great purge when I return to Chicago; my storage unit and my parents' basement are full of crap that I neither need nor want.)
Today marked an interesting milestone: the day I met my replacement at work. His name is Paul and he's tall and gangly and genki. My kids will love him. I hope. But I will dearly miss so many of my kids. I have given a few of them my email address and hope that they will keep in touch. It's hard to sit in my classroom and know that as much as it *feels* like my classroom, it really isn't my classroom at all, and never has been.
Unbelievably, my last week of work is next week. It seems impossible that my departure is so near. I think back to what I was doing this time last year, and though the situation is virtually identical, I feel like my life and mindset are so completely different I can't even truly compare the past two Januarys of my life.
January 2009: In Chicago, I was preparing to leave my family and friends for an indefinite period of time; perhaps years. My boyfriend and I were trying hard to avoid the crushing sadness of saying farewell to each other, and to our relationship. My last day at Mother McGraw was the 16th, and I arrived in Yokohama on the 30th. I was looking forward to exploring more of Japan and relearning the shamisen. I had no job prospects and meager savings. I had no work visa and few contacts. I had no idea how I was going to get my luggage to my apartment, or even where my apartment was. But I was determined to make the situation work, no matter what. And somehow I did.
January 2010: In Yokohama, I am preparing to return to my family and friends, while leaving new friends behind. My boyfriend and I have reunited (after more trials and tribulations than I care to think about over the past year) and are eager to get back to our life together. My last day at GEOS will be the 22nd, and I will return to Chicago on the 31st. I am not looking forward to the bitter cold and snowy weather of Chicago. I will miss the safety and convenience of Japan, but still think America is more exciting than Japan in many ways. (Japan is weird, but in America anything can happen.) I have many people who care about me who will help me get my feet back on the ground and hopefully a good job opportunity will come knocking in the coming months.
Keep your fingers crossed for me, everyone. I am going to need a lot of support and TLC to get through the coming months, but I still have hope that 2010 will prove to be the beginning of a great decade.