The Downside to Hosting Au Pairs
Au Pairs, they come and go. Arrive complete strangers and set up camp in a corner of your home. Sometimes, for years.
The first few days are awkward. Everyone's nice, and then reality sets in.
That's when it's make or break.
Milai came from Tokyo. She barely spoke English, cooked pork in the microwave, and went the wrong way around roundabouts.
And aside from toilet runs, she filmed everything.
Mirai applied sunscreen to watch TV, dressed for Vostok Station to visit Cable Beach, and after googling 'what to do in the Kimberley,' she set off with no regard for tides, temperatures, or vehicle access.
She kept locking herself out of the house and wore balaclavas to shield her from the sun on her midday walks.
She wore bunny ears to bed, had more skincare products than Chemist Warehouse, woke me up at midnight to remove frogs from her toilet, and thought everything in Australia was famous, including gastric bypass surgery.
But Mirai was the kindest, most humble person I've ever met. You could hear her laugh from Chinatown. I admired her adventurous spirit, her fierce pursuit of independence, and her awe for the stars and the Broome sunsets.
She would say (in broken English), "You don't understand, we do not see these things back home. There is too much pollution, too many buildings," and she would sit, waiting and watching until dusk poured in.
She was easy to live with, bought the kids gifts to mark the end of each month and brought Japanese culture and language into our home.
She could also fold like Marie Kondo.
Each au pair forms a stronger connection with one child than with the others.
It's no surprise that Austin and Mirai loved each other. Wild as the fucking Amazon, they share a childlike imagination and look at the world every day as if they're seeing it for the very first time.
After months together, sharing life, space, food (grey pork), and culture, her room is empty.
Just like that, her bed's been stripped, the cupboards emptied, and all that remains is the sweet smell of her banana lip balm (SPF 50).
迷子も旅のうち
(Maigo mo tabi no uchi)
"Getting lost is part of the journey."
Sometimes the detours (and questionable navigation skills) are the adventure.
