With border restrictions lifted over a year ago and society returning to a state of semi-normalcy, some foreign residents are considering packing up and leaving Japan for good in the coming year. Are you one of them?

If you are, all I can say is, 心を引き締めておかないと (Kokoro o hikishimete okanai to, You’d better steel yourself). Making the permanent move home is a complicated logistical process, especially if you’ve been residing here for years. And as it turns out, it is alarmingly easy to make a mistake that will follow you back to your 母国 (bokoku, home country).

I heard about one particular 落とし穴 (otoshiana, pitfall) from a non-Japanese friend. Let’s call him “Guy Cocques-Jean.” Guy had lived in Saitama for several years and in Japan for even longer, but the COVID-19 era was lonely and he found himself thinking more and more about 里帰り (sato-gaeri, a return home). Although Guy had left Japan in his heart, he was still physically tied down by his possessions — his many, many possessions. Over half a decade, Guy had accrued a whole apartment full of them. And for him to depart, his things had to go first.

Disposing of things in Japan is 面倒 (mendō, troublesome). This is especially true in the case of 粗大ごみ (sodai gomi, oversized garbage) such as TVs, nightstands and those ubiquitous three-shelf units called カラーボックス (karā bokkusu, color boxes).

Guy was familiar with the process of buying a 粗大ごみ処理券 (sodai gomi shori-ken, oversized garbage disposal ticket) and calling into the local collection center. ただ今回は処理券でも足りないゴミを抱えていた (Tada konkai wa shori-ken demo tarinai gomi o kakaete-ita, However, this time he was burdened by something even a disposal ticket wouldn’t cover): Guy needed to get rid of his car.

He had been leery about buying a car, given Japan’s superb public transportation, but he lived in a part of Saitama where 車生活 (kuruma seikatsu, a driving lifestyle) was the norm. Guy had put himself out in the boonies, and 最寄駅はとんでもなく離れていた (moyori eki wa tondemonaku hanarete-ita, the nearest train station was ridiculously far away). So, he had a car — a Nissan Cube the color of matcha powder — and if he was going to return home, he would need to get rid of it.

There are basically four ways to handle an 要らない車 (iranai kuruma, unneeded vehicle). You can have a dealer buy it from you, a process called 買い取り (kaitori); you can sell it to an individual, called 個人売買 (kojin baibai); you can trade it in for dealer credit, known as 下取り (shita-dori); and, in extreme cases, you can declare it a 廃車 (haisha, salvage title). All these methods have pros and cons, but Guy decided his best bet was to sell his Cube back to the dealership he’d bought it from.

Most dealerships will assist you in assembling the forms and records you’ll need — which is good, because there are several. These include the 自動車検査証明書 (jidōsha kensa shōmeisho, proof of vehicle inspection), 自動車税納税証明書 (jidōshazei nōzei shōmeisho, proof of automotive tax payment) and 委託状 (itakujō, certificate granting power of attorney). You will need to apply your 実印 (jitsuin, official seal) to many of these, including the all-important 譲渡証明書 (jōto shōmeisho, proof of deed transfer), which releases you from ownership. Why do I say “all-important”? I’ll get to that in a moment.

Let’s park the car-talk for a second to discuss another aspect of moving home: municipal paperwork. There are many forms to be filed at the local 市役所 (shiyakusho, city office), including an official “Hey, I’m moving home” form called a 海外転出届 (kaigai tenshutsu todoke). This formally declares that you are leaving the country and removing yourself from the Japanese residential system. As Guy learned, this is very important, especially if you are selling a car.

Did Guy forget to file this vital piece of paper? On the contrary, 失念した方がよかったかもしれない (shitsunen shita hō ga yokatta ka mo shirenai, it might have been better if he’d spaced it out). No, Guy made the mistake of filing it a full month before he planned to leave. He listed his departure date as a month in the future and didn’t think twice about it.

As it turns out, when you file a 海外転出届, something important happens: すべての記録が抹消されてしまう (Subete no kiroku ga masshō sareteshimau, All your records are expunged). They don’t wait until your listed departure date; they wipe everything as soon as you file. This includes any 印鑑証明書 (inkan shōmeisho, seal registrations). So, it wasn’t long before Guy received a confused call from his dealership asking why his seal couldn’t be verified. Guy hurriedly called his city office, but it was too late — his records were gone.

About six months ago, Guy moved back to his home country. He brought some cherished souvenirs, like his rice cooker, as well as some unwanted ones, like the deed to a Nissan Cube. Presently, the car is parked at the dealership, where it is still very much his property. He has sought help from the local 日本大使館 (Nihon taishikan, Japanese embassy), as well as his own country’s embassy in Tokyo, but neither was able to issue him a 署名証明書 (shomei shōmeisho, notarized proof of signature) in Japanese.

Presently, Guy is still hoping to find a solution that doesn’t involve flying back to Japan, but for the immediate future, his unwanted car is waiting patiently on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. So let this be a warning: It’s not always better to file your paperwork early!