A New Beginning: Turning the Page and Writing the Next Chapter

She comes home from the office looking different, almost out of breath, but above all with stars in her eyes! She announces that she's been offered the management of the Japanese subsidiary. I can already see her there even before she has answered. I say yes immediately, with sincere joy for her and a worry that I keep to myself that night.

I look at my apron hanging behind the kitchen door and realize that nobody in Osaka has ever heard of me. Twenty years building a reputation in this neighborhood, and I'm leaving to start over from scratch to follow someone else. I'm not telling my wife, not yet.

The boxes left last week, only the suitcases remain. I close the apartment door one last time and I can't tell if what I'm feeling is excitement or just fear in a fancy suit.

I cannot read a single sign around me. My wife is already off to a meeting the next day, suit impeccable, while I stay in a still-empty apartment trying to figure out how to get water delivered. I explore the surroundings, I see these eyes all around and I feel my awkwardness.

Weeks of pacing around the apartment while she works fourteen-hour days. I cook French food at home almost by reflex, as if it could replace an entire neighborhood. I feel like a stranger to everything, even to myself some days.

My darling sees that I'm not at my best, but I reassure her... Yes, it'll be fine!

A group of French expatriates meets every two weeks in a small neighborhood café. I finally speak my language out loud for two hours. It feels good, even if it isn't enough. I see how much I need social contact.

But it feels good to hear a few people who have been here longer and who reassure us! I cling to their stories.

I need to learn the language and the culture, plus it will keep me busy: My wife doesn't understand that I get bored while she works non-stop! This is the perfect opportunity to launch a new personal project and discover a fascinating universe. I intend to fully invest myself in mastering the basics and immersing myself in Japanese culture.

Ten days in Paris for Christmas, alone, because my wife couldn't get away.

I find my streets, my market, my former kitchen colleagues again, and yet something rings slightly hollow. I am no longer quite from here either, and this discovery troubles me more than homesickness itself.

Well, I'm not sulking though; I'm eating like never before and bringing back a few spices that are impossible to find in Japan!

In the boarding line for the return flight to Osaka, I realize that this time I am choosing to go back, I am no longer just following along. The difference is minute from the outside, but on the inside it changes everything. I was looking forward to going home, and I am just as excited to return to Osaka!

My level of Japanese allows me to go further by working as an intern in a kappo kitchen to relearn a craft I thought I already knew. Filleting a fish is nothing like what I used to do in Paris. I am starting over at the bottom of the ladder, at forty-four years old.

I haven't been idle these past 3 months!

This is it, I'm taking the plunge: I'm opening my own little restaurant, with a menu that unapologetically blends what I know of Paris and what I have learned here. A regular greets me in broken French as he walks in. Osaka doesn't replace Paris, but it's no longer a waiting room either; it's my home too.