Last night, Hank took me out for sushi – I know, I know. I ate the vegetable rolls and some lobster. Sigh. What I really wanted was the catch of the day (red snapper). Alas.
Vegetable or not, though… oh, sweet jesus. Sushi. I used to eat fried eggs just about every day – I LOVE fried eggs, especially with toast and avocado, but I haven’t really had the taste for them the past couple months. Other than that, I’ve been pretty much the same with food. I mention this because I was nervous that sushi would suddenly turn my stomach, but no – it was better than I remembered.
As we were eating, Hank said to me, “So, how would you feel about maybe living in Japan for 6 months to a year?”
My chopsticks clattered to the table and I shrieked, “Are you serious? When? Why, can we really go? What happened?”
“I guess that’s my answer then.”
Well, duh. I asked him if he’d actually been awake since we met. I’m planning on finally taking a Japanese language class that starts in June – Hank took Japanese in college. I read more books by Japanese authors than anything else, I have a couple Japanese tattoos and I’ve waxed poetic about wanting to go to Japan for a good decade.
Hank works for a Japanese company, and when we met, we’d talked about the fact that the possibility was there that he could ask to work in one of the offices in Japan.
And I’ve bugged him about it ever since. Upon finding out I was pregnant, and feeling desolate about the fact that I wasn’t quite done living overseas, I asked him if he thought maybe we could do that some day. He always brushed me off, and I called him a Nippon-phile poser. He’d professed to loving the culture, the language, and wanting to go there, but here he was with a girlfriend who was chomping at the bit to go, and he seemed completely and utterly disinteresed every time I brought it up.
Well, being the responsible one who thinks ahead (versus me, who always just plunges ahead), he took his career into consideration. Long story short, he figured he should get as much out of this company he’s working for as he can, get more experience, do more than carry the same title he’s carried for the past 10 years and when we’re ready to go back east (at my request), he’ll have more options. Plus, saying “I worked in Europe,” is nice (he in England, and me in the Czech Republic), but saying “I worked in Europe and Japan,” is nicer. In terms of resume building, as well as coolness.
There’s no promises and I he said not to get my hopes up just yet. (Um. Too late.) But he’s working towards it and you can be damn sure I’m going to be a pest. My parents would be crestfallen to hear, “We’re moving your grandchild even farther away,” but perked up again to hear, “And after that, we’ll be even closer than ever.” They can deal with 6 months to a year. They’ll just have to.
I would easily be able to teach English again. If I were going by myself and trying to get work at a school, I wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell without a Bachelor’s Degree (which I’m working on again, but probably won’t have in time.) However, if he goes over for work, gets his visa, I would be able to get one, also, as family. Granted, it might have a “you can’t work” clause, but there’s nothing stopping me from doing private English teaching and tutoring – there’s plenty of money to be had there. Particularly if you teach children. Visas and English teaching are something I know about.
Best of all, my kid would spend the second year, or half year, of his life in Japan. Maybe he’d be too young to remember it, but kids are sponges. Some things would soak in. Like language, for example. Playdates! With Japanese children! And being able to be 16 and say, “Yeah, I lived in Japan when I was 2.” Hopefully that would foster a deep curiosity and interest to go back, or at least travel the world.
Plus, I’d be able to feel interesting again. And have an adventure, but have a shared adventure. Not that having a kid isn’t an adventure, but I’ve always been kinda bummed out that Hank & I met and then promptly got domestic. I lived in Europe, I traveled, I had my wild party days, as did he. But we’ve yet to do any of that together. Well, not the party part, but the travel part. Seattle and Wisconsin and San Francisco don’t count.
But Japan? And living in Japan? That totally counts.
Don’t get my hopes up? Pshaw. How else do you make things happen?