If you’ve read my last post, you know I’m currently deep in the waiting phase of the JET Program. This is the story of how I got here in the first place — including the part where a song from an anime is entirely responsible for a major life decision. No notes. No regrets.
The Part Where This All Starts (At 2am, Obviously)
It started, as so many great decisions do, in the middle of the night.
I was half asleep when the TV flickered on and a sweeping, unmistakable melody filled the room — the opening theme to InuYasha. I had no idea what I was watching, no idea where it was from, and absolutely no business being awake at that hour — but I was glued. Completely, irreversibly, embarrassingly glued.
Despite being a pre-teen with school the very next day, I did not go back to sleep—shocker.
Instead, as many of us do, I spiraled. One anime became five. Five became ten. Ten became a genuine obsession with the language underneath all of it — the rhythm of Japanese, its elegance, the way every syllable seemed to carry meaning before I understood a single word.
I know what you’re thinking. Anime girl. And listen, you’re not wrong.
But I promise it got bigger than that. Eventually.
The Part Where I Learn and Grow
I took Japanese in college, which is where things got real fast.
Studying the language formally — actually sitting down and learning to read, write, and speak it — only made everything worse. Better. You know what I mean.
I made friends I still have, including one in Kyoto who has shaped my love for Japan more than she probably knows. I read everything I could find about the culture, the literature, the history. I went down more rabbit holes than I can count.
And somewhere between verb conjugations and kanji flashcards — around the time I realized I was doing extra study for fun — I had to admit this wasn’t a phase anymore. It had become something I couldn’t ignore even if I tried, and trust me, I didn’t try very hard.
The Part Where I Get On a Plane
So eventually, my husband and I did exactly that.
Two and a half weeks in Japan, wandering and getting wonderfully lost in a place we’d both been dreaming about.
Spoiler: it felt exactly like I always knew it would — but also nothing like I expected, which is honestly the most “Japan” answer possible.
I could write an entire post about that trip — and I will, don’t worry — but the moment I keep coming back to is a woman from Uji.
We were lost — but honestly, in the best possible way. We were trying to find Byōdō-in Temple and failing spectacularly when she stepped in, our words doing their very best across the gap between her English and my enthusiastic-but-chaotic Japanese. We laughed at the confusion, she pointed us in the right direction, and somewhere in those few minutes, something shifted. We were lost in translation, literally and completely — and yet we walked away with something that made us feel more human than we had all trip. Connection, simple and unexpected, from a stranger in Uji.
Such a small moment. Yet, it’s the one that stuck.
I came home from that trip feeling restless.
Unpacking our bags, talking through everything we’d seen — it just hit me.
I couldn’t give this up.
The Part Where I Do Something About It
Which brings us here.
I applied to the JET Program — which I talked about a bit in my first post — because it felt like the most direct path from where I am to where I want to be.
I made it through the application. I survived the interview. I am now firmly in the waiting stage, refreshing my email every four minutes like a completely normal and chill person.
If JET says yes, I’m packing my life into suitcases and going.
If life takes a different turn, I’ll be starting a PhD in Comparative Literature and Cultural Studies, researching how the Japanese language shapes identity and expression in popular culture — which is really just a fancy way of saying the InuYasha spiral never fully stopped and I decided to write a dissertation about it.
So… What Now?
Either way, I’ll be here — writing about all of it, one post at a time, from one Arkansas girl who heard a theme song in the middle of the night and never quite recovered.
If you’re on your own version of a language spiral — or just curious where this one goes — stick around. I have a feeling this is only the beginning.
Welcome to Lost in Translation. I’m really glad you’re here. 🌸
— Katherine, somewhere in Arkansas, waiting on an email
Lost in Translation 