Bye-bye New York

Bye-Bye New York

A New York JET Alum Heads to Minnesota

By Alexei Esikoff (Fukushima-ken, 2001-02)

(Summer 2006)When I moved back to the States after my stint as an ALT, of course I moved to New York. My family was still living in the metro area suburbs, but I only wanted the big city: With my international experience, I was going to get that killer job. I’d have the kind of New York City social life you see on TV. Most importantly, I could still find my favorite things about Japan (the food, karaoke), but with the ease of speaking English.

Four years later I have left New York. I never thought I would. My boyfriend was accepted into the University of Minnesota’s law school, located in Minneapolis. Love, of course, makes people act out of their comfort zone. It’s not like I had gotten that killer job yet or ever: Teaching for CUNY left me living below the poverty line. Benefits? My parents paid for my health insurance. So I knew I was going to accompany him. But I still loved New York, and I also knew I had some things to do first.

I went to the MOMA on its free night. I checked out a weird play about magicians at P.S. 122, and a documentary about American soldiers carrying cameras at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema. Biked across the Brooklyn Bridge. Shopped at Mexx and Uniqlo. Filled up on Cuban sandwiches, thin-crust pizza, and matzoh ball soup. One of my last meals was at my favorite Japanese restaurant, Soba-ya. Have you been? You must go; it’s on E 9th, and its soba is just like you had in Japan. After your meal, walk around Little Tokyo, taking in the takoyaki stand, the authentic iizakayas on St. Marks, the Japanese students wearing mixmatched outfits that only they could make work.

As I’ve mentioned, one of my favorite activities ever is karaoke, which can be prohibitively expensive in the city. But this was what I wanted for a final memory. Off to Sing Sing with twelve of my closest friends in a sweaty little room. Oh the Kirin Ichiban and the dancing and the power ballads. Even my boyfriend, who until now was a shower singer, performed a few solo numbers to much applause, including Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman.” As the night ended, we hugged beer-y hugs, and I fell to sleep very happy indeed.

For the move we loaded our well-used furniture, books, and my geriatric cockatiel (“Bird”) into a Budget van. It took two and a half days.

Here in our corner of the Twin Cities are many Somalis and hippies, which means you can get organic injera at the local food coops. There are bike paths everywhere, including some lovely ones along the 10,000 or so lakes, and people actually use them. Our entire two-bedroom apartment costs less than renting one bedroom in New York. And the size! We have a sun room, of which the couch in the corner is my favorite new reading spot. What we don’t have is enough furniture: Used to the cramming culture of New York home life, a bookshelf that once seemed big sits isolated in a corner.

Minneapolis does not overrun with choices like New York does. I inquired about sushi (citysearch.com here only had one listing) to my few friends here. They knew of one, in a chi-chi area, far from me, that was one the pricey side. I haven’t been there yet. In hopes of meeting new people, I also looked up the website of the JETAA Minnesota chapter. So far they haven’t written back either.

One of my boyfriend’s new law school friends got his master’s degree in Japan, bringing home a Japanese wife. While my language skills had deteriorated to the point of lousy, she was still thrilled to meet someone who was familiar with things like onsen. “I’ll make okonomiyaki for you,” she said, pressing her arm into my elbow.

I can’t wait.