Confessions of a Gaijin 2: Episode 3 – Sick

“This,” she said with a nervous giggle, “is going to hurt.”

I barely had time to steel myself before it happened; a small cotton swab on a the end of a long thin plastic rod inserted assertively into my right nostril. It was pushed all the way down into my throat and then yanked back out. The whole thing took about three seconds but they were probably three of the most uncomfortable seconds of my life. The doctor pushed the swab into my throat but as far as I was concerned she may as well have been trying to shove it all the way into my brain. As soon as she slid it back out I gasped for breath with a mixture of shock and relief. A nurse passed me a tissue while I tried to recover from the trauma. I experienced nasal violation, something which would probably make a good name for a grindcore band.

The doctor wiped my swab onto a small plastic strip and placed it into a tiny plastic box the size of a stick of shewing gum. I’d been ill over the last couple of days and had to go and have a flu check in order to see if I was contagious or not. In Japan, any employee struck down by lurgee is seen as a liability to both the company and the customers and must be isolated as soon as possible in order minimise any detrimental impact to the business. My flu check came up negative but I still had to spend a few days at home anyway to rest. It turns that being home alone in another country is an intensely miserable experience. In the UK I could cheerfully munch away on Marmite on toast while watching Jeremy Kyle and waiting for my housemates to get back. In Japan all I could do was drink green tea and stare at the walls in between binge-watching Netflix and messaging friends back home once I knew they were out of bed. Discomfort, misery and confined spaces were my constant companions.

Anytime I ventured outside of the house I wore one of those white surgical masks that everyone rocks in Asia when they have some kind of bug. Prior to wearing one myself I thought it might be some sort of novel experience but it transpired that donning a mask actually made me feel worse; my disgusting germy breath was redirected back at me and I felt like I was in some sort of grim future dystopia where humanity struggles to reassemble itself in the aftermath of a global pandemic. Plus everyone around me was wearing masks and looked really sad so I felt like I’d joined the Sad Mask Club.

I’m not surprised I’d become ill. My immune system has taken a battering from all the microwave meals and post-work sake that had become part of my evening routine. Working 50 – 60 hour weeks should really be punctuated by periods of rest and recuperation but my time here is limited so I want to make the most of it by seeing and doing as much as possible. Ergo I wear myself out even further and make it even harder for my body to fight off disease. Last weekend I went to see British music producer Sophie (who is actually a young man named Simon, which seems like something out of an episode of Nathan Barley) at a club in Osaka. I got horribly drunk in a first-floor nightclub and plunged into ennui as I tried not to get angry at all the swaying hipsters I was surrounded by before stumbling back to a capsule hotel (which was actually surprisingly sleek and comfy) and getting five hours or so of catatonic sleep. Predictably enough I woke up cripplingly hungover, serenaded back into consciousness by the sounds of various Japanese people being violently sick. Later that morning I dragged myself around the city with my friends before stuffing myself into a train and listening to sad music on Spotify as I made my way back home.

The illness passed and now I’m in the very-nearly-final stretch of my contract; six weeks to go until I’m done. My time at the school feels a bit like a JRPG; I’ve been consistently levelling up and am now in the last and most challenging part of the game, complete with a formidable final boss; we’re switching to a new type of kids lesson soon which hasn’t been finalised by head office so no-one really knows how to teach it. Everyone is perplexed and confused and stressed. The kids headteacher is (even more) moody and intolerant. All I know is I’ll be done soon and once I finish, I am never looking back.

My apartment has to be vacated a week before I leave the school so that my replacement can move in, which means I have to spend seven days in early April in a hotel that the company is paying for. I’m actually pretty chuffed about this; I never could quite get the hang of living in a confined space by myself. I feel like if these walls could talk they would probably provide enough testimony for the preface of some sort of self-help book.

And I’ve booked my ticket home. I’m taking the scenic route back via Taiwan, South-East Asia and America’s west coast before going back to the UK and doing my victory dance.

So things are finally starting to move forward. I’m creating a better year for myself, I just need to pass safely through the bombardment of the next month and a half.

There are some other things I want to attend as well, and I’m laying the groundwork for them as I speak. Spring is upon me, there is a lot of catching up and moving on to do, and one matter in particular in sticking in my craw.

I wonder if I can settle it before I leave Asia?

Some of the coverage you find on Cultured Vultures contains affiliate links, which provide us with small commissions based on purchases made from visiting our site. We cover gaming news, movie reviews, wrestling and much more.