Sayonara: Ditching Japan in the midst of a pandemic

When coronavirus cases started to spread around the world I knew one thing – I didn’t want to be alone. I had already decided that 2020 would be the year when I’d leave Japan for good. But as the Covid-19 cases began to skyrocket in March, my doctor finally gave me a date for the surgery I had been preparing for since November.  

I had a decision to make. Should I undergo surgery that would make my quality of life significantly better and risk catching coronavirus in the hospital? Or should I just cut my losses and run?

Things came to a head on April 3rd when my office suddenly declared that we would all be working from home. At first, I was happy to work from home as I had been concerned about catching the virus from students. There was no social distancing in that office. One-to-one lessons are held in a small room, the student and I in close proximity to each other talking nonstop for 40 minutes. To me, it felt like too much risk. I also began to think about living alone, working at home every day, and not being able to speak Japanese fluently. If I should get sick who would I contact? Would I be able to contact emergency services to get help, or even access an interpreter? How well could I articulate the symptoms or the urgency to get medical care?

All of those thoughts raced through my mind. I pondered whether undergoing the surgery that I had been waiting six months for, and with insurance would cost next to nothing, was worth it. After talking it over with my family, I decided that I would skip the surgery and say goodbye to Japan. With the global disruption of the airline industry, I would need to make it quick. At that time in early April, New York was really the hotspot of the pandemic and things seemed pretty chaotic. But where there’s a will, there’s a way. I asked my family to arrange quarantine facilities where I would spend the first two weeks. I resigned from my job, filed my moving out notice with the city office and began packing. A week after the decision to leave was made, I landed in San Francisco.

The first two weeks were rough. I was quarantined in a studio apartment near my family, worrying every day that I had inadvertently contracted the virus during the nine-hour flight from Tokyo. My family had arranged everything to make me feel comfortable. They dropped off food, called daily to check up on me. To pass the time, I painted, did some adult colouring, listened to music, and made a video blog of my thoughts. Gradually, I began to feel the anxiety subside, and it was comforting knowing that people who cared about me were close by and that I could call them if I needed help.

The day I moved out of quarantine and into the family home was something special. For the first time in months, since this whole coronavirus debacle began, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Through an immense stroke of good luck (or blessing) I hadn’t gotten sick on the flight over here. And at the time of writing, every member of my family has evaded the virus up to this point. I hope it stays that way.

Living in Japan has been quite an eye-opening experience. I’ve had some rich and fulfilling experiences there but it’s time to move on. Now, in this time, I want to be surrounded by the love and support of those closest to me.

Still, Japan lingers in my heart. The song that pulled me through quarantine? I sang it with the teachers at the first junior high school graduation I attended in Japan in 2016 –  あとひとつ (Ato Hitotsu) by Funky Monkey Babys.