The Land of the Rising Sun (written as the sun is rising)

It’s four-thirty am on my second official night in Tokyo. A lot has happened in the blur of the last three days, but before I start to forget I really wanted to write about the voyage from mighty Minnesota to the Land of the Rising Sun. [I think when I was in Korea, the grip of Jetlag also compelled me to write very early in the morning, very early on in my stay. I guess the tradition continues!]

I have always thought plane rides were a poignant experience. When I see one flying in the sky I wonder where it is coming from and where it is going to. I wonder about each passenger’s story, why they are flying across the country, across the world. A plane ride marks the beginning of a new adventure, perhaps even a new chapter in a person’s life. Maybe I sound a bit dramatic, but for a girl who is moderately sedentary when it comes to travel of plane proportions, I believe this is true, regardless of how well-seasoned a traveler one is. So as I set out on my own grand voyage across the sky, I felt excited to be among the ranks of those I had been watching from my own window.

The ride itself was fine- twelve hours, really terrible food, relatively enjoyable films, and a back-row seat with no neighbors! Hours seven and eight were rough, but there’s really nothing you can do but sit tight and try to get through. Once we started to land I found myself getting anxious- once the wheels touched the ground I would really be starting my life in Japan. The ride felt like a strange no-man’s-land that shielded me from the realities of the journey I was embarking on, a calm before the storm, and once we touched ground I knew that the calm would end.

I emerged from the plane donned in my Minnesota long pants/sweater combo and was greeted by hot and humid air that brought me out of fall and back to summer. Getting through customs and immigration was easy as was picking up my bag [yes, one bag! Bahaha I was determined to only carry one and feel maybe a little too proud of this accomplishment!] and finding the Waseda students who were to meet me. In some ways I am pleasantly surprised with my language skills—Maybe because I’ve studied three languages now but am fluent at none I sort of expect myself to have trouble communicating. But I do better than I was afraid I might and actually get along relatively well, although listening is still a challenge as is my small vocabulary. Also, I have a feeling this feeling of confidence might change when I’m placed with my host family and I have to support a Japanese conversation all day everyday. But, time will tell.

So now I sit in my hotel on my futon, the smells and sounds of the city wafting through my open window, thinking about the day ahead. Life is good and I’m happy to be here!