Confessions of a Gaijin: Episode 13 – Tokyo

Confessions of a Gaijin

I spent the weekend in Tokyo. I escaped for a couple of days to hang out with my friend Andrew, who’s in town for a few days on business. I’ve been deeply in love with Tokyo ever since my first visit when I was 12, and anytime I come here it feels like deliverance from the trials and exertions of my daily routine. I got into town at 10pm on Saturday night and as soon as I step off the Bullet Train I experience the sort of giddy rush you get at a theme park. The city is as magical and inspiring as ever, like a cleaner, less moribund version of Blade Runner. This place is so alive with colour and noise and wonderful distractions.

I meet Andrew amid the dashing crowds at Shinjuku station and we give each other a big hug on sight. Andrew is a tall, charismatic Australian who I met through a friend a few years ago. He runs his own anime distribution company so we bonded over a love of Japanese animation and other nerdy pursuits. He takes me to a bar in an area called Golden Gai, a small, dense grid of alleyways packed full of tiny bars and restaurants. Andrew introduces me to his favourite spot, a hole in the wall which is awesomely named Deathmatch Made In Hell. The walls are covered with horror movie posters and the shelves heave under the weight of stacks of VHS videos. ‘Return Of The Living Dead’ is playing on a TV and heavy metal is blaring from mounted speakers. The amiable barman is wearing a Wayne’s World hat. Andrew and I drink pints of Kirin while chatting with his friends about everything from Joss Whedon to life as an English teacher. At one point we find an Akira DVD and have our picture taken with it because we are a bunch of drunk nerds.

After a few drinks we move to a different bar, a karaoke tourist trap a few doors down. The booze is cheap and we are serenaded by a tall, dark-haired girl who appears to have had too much to drink and is murdering ‘Best Of You’ by the Foo Fighters. One of our party finds something at the bottom of his glass of sake that resembles semen. He points it out to the bartender, who takes one glance and simply says: “That’s fucked up.” I note that is an unusually passive response for Japanese hospitality staff, who normally bow several times and utter rapid-fire apologies before moving heaven and earth in order to ensure customer satisfaction.

Our last stop for the night is a British-themed pub called Hub. You’d be forgiven for assuming that it would be full of Brits talking about football and Jeremy Clarkson (a prospect about as appealing as wiping my face with fish intestines), but it is packed full of Japanese people, drinking pints of Guinness and eating large bowls of chips. At this stage my tongue has been loosened by several beers so I proceed to tell one of Andrew’s friends a condensed version of my life story up until this point; the emotional upheaval of last year, the slog of the last couple of the months, the near-relentless sense of uncertainty about what the future holds. He tells me that he has heard similar stories from a heap of people who have come to Japan and tells me I have nothing to worry about. He says it took him at least a year to feel settled here and in that time he went to hell and back more than once, now he is married and has a six year old. We finish our drinks and get taxis back to our hotels. The next morning I am badly slept, hungover, and I’ve managed to lose my Nintendo 3DS.

Andrew meets me the next day and we wander around Asakusa together. The area houses one of the biggest temples in the city and at the gate we are approached by some kindly university students who are practicing their English and want to take us on a short guided tour of the temple. We’ve both been to this place before but these kids are so sweet that we can’t possibly say no. As we all walk together, I watch Andrew turn on the charm and chat effortlessly with them, making them laugh and giggle as he shows them pictures of his dog on his iPhone. Later that day we say goodbye to the students and buy a few tins of Asahi as we wander around the backstreets, sharing reflections on life. He knows what I’ve been through over the last year or so but is grounded and hopeful about where I should go from here. “Life’s a fucking wonderful, exciting and occasionally disappointing thing,” he says, “but it’s well worth the price of admission.”

Later that night we are wandering around a boutique neighbourhood looking for somewhere to eat. The streets are teeming with curiosities and hidden surprises, and I find myself wondering what would happen if I tried moving here. It wouldn’t be the most difficult thing I’ve ever attempted. Once upon a time getting a job in Japan felt like a task on par with reaching the summit of Mount Everest, and yet here I am, with a three year visa, a steady income and a small but wonderful cluster of new friends. Moving to Tokyo would be tough, I have no doubt, but it’s entirely do-able. The question is how badly I want it, and whether I’d be prepared to handle the complications (it’s one of the most expensive cities in the world and has a population of around 30 million, to name but two) that come with such an endeavour.

On the Monday morning Andrew has meetings so I bid him farewell and spend the day wandering around and soaking up the gorgeous late Autumn sunshine. I have plenty to think about. The last few weeks have been atrociously hectic at work and our busiest season is looming on the horizon, giving me all manner of headaches, in some cases literal. But what if I could put all that to one side and find a way to make all this work? What if I could sail through all the stress and exhaustion and find something beautiful and fulfilling on the other side? What if I could stay in Japan, and have that be something enriches my life, rather than simply testing it?

These are the thoughts spinning round my head as I get on the Bullet Train that will take me back home. This week I will have a meeting with my manager to discuss whether or not I want to renew my contract at the school. I have felt uncentered and confused for months on end, but now it’s time to start getting my life back. There are some big decisions ahead. The first one will be made in a few days time.

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