As many of you know by now, I’ll be returning home shortly for the first time since I moved to Japan a year ago. The first things I want to eat when I get back include Five Guys and Buddy’s pizza. I haven’t decided what my second meal will be, yet. Either way, I’m gonna find all that weight I’ve lost in the past year. I know many people will ask me, “How’s Japan?” and I will say, “楽しかったよ” to mess with them, then I’ll say “Good.” Not because I’m trying to be an asshole, but because how was the last whole year of your life? If the question is vague, the answer is vague. That’s how it goes. Also I’ll be tired. However, feel free to ask more specific questions, and I will be glad to answer them. Unless there’s a Pokémon nearby, in which case I’ll ask you to wait. Also, if I hear someone complain about humidity, I might impulsively slap them in the mouth. See you soon!
As I end my first year in Japan on JET, I’ve been looking back on the past year. A year ago I knew only what my predecessor had told me, a few pages that became my bible when I came here. A brief summary of what my schools were like and how to get there, as well as a little bit of information about where I’d live. I had a long list of people whose names I knew, but not much else. There was really no way to expect anything.
Once I got here, everything was different. I was thrown into my new life. The excitement of all the new things helped me push through all the uncertainty. We had orientation, and within the week went to our new schools, where most of us could hardly speak to anyone. I moved into my new apartment, and learned that not all countries have central heating/cooling. It’s strange moving into a new place. You know that this is where you’ll be for the next year or few years, but at first it’s just a hotel, or someone else’s house that you just happen to be staying at. One of the main ways that I know I consider a place home is when I can make it from my bed to my bathroom blindfolded (which I often do when it’s too bright in the morning and I wake up too early), and even navigate around everything on the floor (only those who have seen one of my rooms understand this challenge. Like a reverse “the floor is lava”). Hopefully I’ll have a video of it soon. Even my eating habits completely changed (though not necessarily improved health-wise) due to what was and wasn’t available here. I never thought I’d willingly eat white rice, let alone have it a few days a week (admittedly usually with gyudon sauce).
As I’ve mentioned before (I think), my brain tends to completely shift modes when I move to a new place or start something new. There’s an almost immediate acceptance of “this is how it is now” that I’ve built up over the years now. It’s like a dream. You just kind of accept the circumstances you’re in as if it’s always been that way. “Of course it’s normal that I have telekinetic powers and hang out with Jon Snow while living in my childhood house that’s filled with Pokémon.” In kindergarten, when asked what wish I would want granted by a genie, I just wanted the furniture to go back to how it was. It would sicken me to know how many times I’ve rearranged my new room, trying to find the perfect feng shui (read: optimal space for playing Smash). While I still hate things changing, I seem to have altered what constitutes as real change. Moving to Japan wasn’t everything changing, it was playing a different game. While playing this new game, the old one only exists as small Easter eggs and cameos. One day I’m sure there will be a sequel to the first game, but it’s hard to tell which characters from the original will show up. (Do you understand now why video games are perfect analogies for everything?)
Which brings me to my trip back home. If we continue with my video game analogy, my trip home is DLC (Downloadable content): an expansion for a previous game. The strange part will be realizing that the game kept going even though I wasn’t playing. I told a friend here that they basically won’t exist while I’m away because they’re in a different game. At first mildly offended, they understood what I meant, and possibly wondered if I’m autistic as people do from time to time. The most interesting thing about my return home is that while I’m gone, there will be a big reset here. At least a dozen or so people that I know throughout Mie will die return to their countries, and be replaced with identical androids new people. Most of them I don’t care about, but some I’ll miss. Or not. Who knows. (If you’re reading this and leaving, I’ll totally miss you. 
) My role will evolve from a newbie to a senpai (upperclassman), and I’ll be partly responsible for passing down the teachings that my senpais taught me (such as to never go to that shadowy place). I remember when I first got here, wondering how they seemed to know so much. I now understand that they had the basics down, but were just good at faking everything else. Then in a year, the cycle will repeat. People will leave, tears will be shed, parties will be had, new people will come, then more parties, then repeat. One day I will leave, and my successor will be trained by someone I trained. It’s the circle of JET, and obviously it moves us all.
Luckily, my schools won’t change, and my students will return for their second semester in September, so at least that will stay consistent. Until then, I’ll either be on vacation, or sitting at my desk doing nothing while trying my best not to lose my will to live.
What will I do in America? Am I gonna have to be a different man? How’s Japan? Find out on the next episode of the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.