I've been in Akita for a few days now and am thoroughly enjoying myself, if a bit overwhelmed. Sorry that this is a bit behind schedule, but now that the weekend is here I will hopefully have enough time to bring you all up to speed. Before I go into my time here at the school, I am going to talk about my trip into and then through Japan, ending with my arrival at the school on April 2.
Getting to The Airport
My flight into Japan was scheduled for March 31 at about 11:00am from Newark Liberty International Airport. Since I have family that lives in Perth Amboy, New Jersey my dad decided we would drive up to see them and spend the night there before my flight on Monday. So, Sunday I packed the car with my luggage: two large suitcases filled mainly with clothes, a backpack with some books and other entertainment, and my lap top. It was kind of strange saying good bye to my mom and my brothers. It felt like when I left for college all over again, no one quite sure what was going to happen and everyone really anxious. My mom held up pretty well, though I know she was very anxious for me. I am not sure to what extent my brothers were anxious for me, but I did feel they were going to miss me. I know I was going to miss them and the relatively long time we shared while I was a couch potato at home.
The drive to my Aunt's apartment was uneventful, if long due to heavy traffic (perhaps the weekend rush). I was sleep on the last leg of the trip. When we got there my aunt made us dinner and a couple of my cousins came over to visit (most of my generation of cousins are well older than me, most of them at least 8 years older than me). My cousin Janelle brought her daughter Giselle, who is already walking all over the place. While there, my cousins and aunts asked the usual questions about my trip, like how long it was, what I was going to do once I landed, was I excited, etc. And the usual stories were told, especially from my cousin Esther, who babysat me when I was just an infant and reminded me once again that she used to wipe my butt back in the day. All in all it was the normal Diaz clan ruckus, and took my mind off of being nervous about my upcoming flight the next morning.
We slept over my Uncle's house. I toyed with the idea of staying up all night so that I would be forced to sleep on the plane and then adjust faster to Japan time, but in the end I decided against it and compromised with a 2:00am bedtime. While I could feel the familiar feelings of reluctance to go through with the trip. The part of me that enjoys order and feeling safe and being feeling comfortable with the familiar was having doubts about this trip to the other side of the world. It was very similar to my feelings on the way to Ithaca my freshman year, and I think it's a natural feeling when you are making a long trip to someplace new. But I remembered my trips to Ithaca and the visits to the High School and the dinner at my Aunt's apartment, and I felt better because they all left with me a sense that I have a very large and very wide network of family ...and knowing that these people were supporting me and excited for me and pushing me helped to make the prospect of going across the globe, alone, to a country where I didn't know the language a little bit easier to handle.
The drive to the airport the next morning was also uneventful, if rather silent. I think I was trying not to be nervous. My dad helped me check my suitcases and get my boarding pass, and then left me at security. It has been some time since I last went through airport security, and it was unnerving how many precautions you need to take when trying to go through. But I passed no problem and made my way to my gate.
At this point, I was finally completely alone on my journey. This part was easy, though, since I was still in the US. I found my gate and sat down, contenting myself with some reading. I also picked up a few snacks on the way at a nearby store. At the gate, as one might expect, there was an incredible amount of Japanese waiting for the flight, along with a minority of non-Japanese. When it was time for boarding, the instructions were given in both English and Japanese, as you would expect. This was the beginning of the transition between the English speaking world and the Japanese speaking world, every step of the way another step into Japan.
I was flying Continental Airlines, on a Boeing 777, a large aircraft with three sets of three as a seating arrangement. My seat, 28L, was a window seat on the starboard side about midway into the plane and which, unfortunately, was right next to the wing, which obscured a lot of the possible scenery. Each seat came equipped with a personal video monitor, a headphone jack, and a handset that had the dual function of in-flight phone and remote control for the monitor. On the monitor you could select to see a variety of movies and recorded TV shows that played on a loop that reset every 2.5 hours or so. There was a wide variety of music from around the world available for listening, as well as a few games like chess, solitaire, black jack, and a memory game. My favorite feature was the flight tracker, which showed you the trajectory of the flight, the plane's current position on the globe, the current time both at Newark and in Tokyo, and stats like the outside temperature, the ground speed of the aircraft, the altitude and the ETA. This loop went through both English and Japanese cycles.
The flight was a direct flight, and so took the shortest way to Japan, which was neither East nor West across the globe but NNW over Canada and the Arctic Ocean, and then down over eastern Siberia and the Pacific Ocean, arriving in Tokyo after 14 hours of flying. I didn't take pictures of the moments over the Arctic circle, but it was beautiful. Here is what I wrote about them in my journal while on the flight:
Though I will be missing the North Pole on this trip, I can currently see the sea is covered with miles and miles of flat ice...as far as the eye can see. As I peer out my window, I can see a few thin but very long cracks in the ice. The whole surface is very white and clean, like the shavings on an ice cube. As I gaze further into the distance, the white ice fades into a haze that becomes thin condensation rising high into the sky, a kind of immense and diffuse cloud that dissolves from the ice and blurs the horizon into nothingness. What I can see of the sky is a light blue that turns a slightly darker slate at the very top. It is very bright and cold outside, and the condensation between the panes of my window spread like delicate frozen feathers.
Later, the ice gave way to virgin snow, and finally the rocky peaks of the Siberian mountains before becoming the Pacific. My entire flight took place in daylight, which made this the longest day of my life thus far: about 21 hours of daylight (between waking and sunset in Narita).
My two seat mates were young Japanese women from Tokyo, in their mid-twenties, although one of them (Yukari) could have passed as 17 in the US. Yukari did not speak English very well (still much better than my Japanese) but her companion did (she spent five years growing up in Long Island before her family returned to Tokyo). They and two other young Japanese women across the aisle had visited friends in NYC for a couple of days. We chatted for a bit during the first and last hours of the trip, and a little bit during the middle (lots of napping went on in the middle parts of the flight). They said they thought I was at least 25, because of my "calm and relaxed demeanor." I have been mistaken for being older very frequently, ever since I was in high school, so this was no shock to me. It would continue unabated once I was in Japan.
I enjoyed talking with my seat-mates and their friend Akari across the aisle. It was my first trial at trying to communicate with Japanese with limited language skills, and it wasn't too bad, though it did require a lot of energy. When we were eating lunch and Yukari tested me with an "Oishi des ka?" (Is it good/delicious?) I was able to respond readily with "Hai, oishi des" (Yes it is very good) but then amended my verdict to "Maa maa," or "so-so" since airline food is nothing to rave about. My companions seemed to like me and asked me to keep in contact with them (we exchanged e-mails) and invited me to visit them in Tokyo if I had the chance.
I spent my 14 hours on the plane reading, writing in my journal, chatting with my neighbors, and napping, with the occasional TV program. I never grew restless and all in all it was a pretty enjoyable trip. Would I do it frequently? No, but it is very doable, in my opinion.
My flight into Japan was scheduled for March 31 at about 11:00am from Newark Liberty International Airport. Since I have family that lives in Perth Amboy, New Jersey my dad decided we would drive up to see them and spend the night there before my flight on Monday. So, Sunday I packed the car with my luggage: two large suitcases filled mainly with clothes, a backpack with some books and other entertainment, and my lap top. It was kind of strange saying good bye to my mom and my brothers. It felt like when I left for college all over again, no one quite sure what was going to happen and everyone really anxious. My mom held up pretty well, though I know she was very anxious for me. I am not sure to what extent my brothers were anxious for me, but I did feel they were going to miss me. I know I was going to miss them and the relatively long time we shared while I was a couch potato at home.
The drive to my Aunt's apartment was uneventful, if long due to heavy traffic (perhaps the weekend rush). I was sleep on the last leg of the trip. When we got there my aunt made us dinner and a couple of my cousins came over to visit (most of my generation of cousins are well older than me, most of them at least 8 years older than me). My cousin Janelle brought her daughter Giselle, who is already walking all over the place. While there, my cousins and aunts asked the usual questions about my trip, like how long it was, what I was going to do once I landed, was I excited, etc. And the usual stories were told, especially from my cousin Esther, who babysat me when I was just an infant and reminded me once again that she used to wipe my butt back in the day. All in all it was the normal Diaz clan ruckus, and took my mind off of being nervous about my upcoming flight the next morning.
We slept over my Uncle's house. I toyed with the idea of staying up all night so that I would be forced to sleep on the plane and then adjust faster to Japan time, but in the end I decided against it and compromised with a 2:00am bedtime. While I could feel the familiar feelings of reluctance to go through with the trip. The part of me that enjoys order and feeling safe and being feeling comfortable with the familiar was having doubts about this trip to the other side of the world. It was very similar to my feelings on the way to Ithaca my freshman year, and I think it's a natural feeling when you are making a long trip to someplace new. But I remembered my trips to Ithaca and the visits to the High School and the dinner at my Aunt's apartment, and I felt better because they all left with me a sense that I have a very large and very wide network of family ...and knowing that these people were supporting me and excited for me and pushing me helped to make the prospect of going across the globe, alone, to a country where I didn't know the language a little bit easier to handle.
The Flight
The drive to the airport the next morning was also uneventful, if rather silent. I think I was trying not to be nervous. My dad helped me check my suitcases and get my boarding pass, and then left me at security. It has been some time since I last went through airport security, and it was unnerving how many precautions you need to take when trying to go through. But I passed no problem and made my way to my gate.
At this point, I was finally completely alone on my journey. This part was easy, though, since I was still in the US. I found my gate and sat down, contenting myself with some reading. I also picked up a few snacks on the way at a nearby store. At the gate, as one might expect, there was an incredible amount of Japanese waiting for the flight, along with a minority of non-Japanese. When it was time for boarding, the instructions were given in both English and Japanese, as you would expect. This was the beginning of the transition between the English speaking world and the Japanese speaking world, every step of the way another step into Japan.
I was flying Continental Airlines, on a Boeing 777, a large aircraft with three sets of three as a seating arrangement. My seat, 28L, was a window seat on the starboard side about midway into the plane and which, unfortunately, was right next to the wing, which obscured a lot of the possible scenery. Each seat came equipped with a personal video monitor, a headphone jack, and a handset that had the dual function of in-flight phone and remote control for the monitor. On the monitor you could select to see a variety of movies and recorded TV shows that played on a loop that reset every 2.5 hours or so. There was a wide variety of music from around the world available for listening, as well as a few games like chess, solitaire, black jack, and a memory game. My favorite feature was the flight tracker, which showed you the trajectory of the flight, the plane's current position on the globe, the current time both at Newark and in Tokyo, and stats like the outside temperature, the ground speed of the aircraft, the altitude and the ETA. This loop went through both English and Japanese cycles.
The flight was a direct flight, and so took the shortest way to Japan, which was neither East nor West across the globe but NNW over Canada and the Arctic Ocean, and then down over eastern Siberia and the Pacific Ocean, arriving in Tokyo after 14 hours of flying. I didn't take pictures of the moments over the Arctic circle, but it was beautiful. Here is what I wrote about them in my journal while on the flight:
Though I will be missing the North Pole on this trip, I can currently see the sea is covered with miles and miles of flat ice...as far as the eye can see. As I peer out my window, I can see a few thin but very long cracks in the ice. The whole surface is very white and clean, like the shavings on an ice cube. As I gaze further into the distance, the white ice fades into a haze that becomes thin condensation rising high into the sky, a kind of immense and diffuse cloud that dissolves from the ice and blurs the horizon into nothingness. What I can see of the sky is a light blue that turns a slightly darker slate at the very top. It is very bright and cold outside, and the condensation between the panes of my window spread like delicate frozen feathers.
Later, the ice gave way to virgin snow, and finally the rocky peaks of the Siberian mountains before becoming the Pacific. My entire flight took place in daylight, which made this the longest day of my life thus far: about 21 hours of daylight (between waking and sunset in Narita).
My two seat mates were young Japanese women from Tokyo, in their mid-twenties, although one of them (Yukari) could have passed as 17 in the US. Yukari did not speak English very well (still much better than my Japanese) but her companion did (she spent five years growing up in Long Island before her family returned to Tokyo). They and two other young Japanese women across the aisle had visited friends in NYC for a couple of days. We chatted for a bit during the first and last hours of the trip, and a little bit during the middle (lots of napping went on in the middle parts of the flight). They said they thought I was at least 25, because of my "calm and relaxed demeanor." I have been mistaken for being older very frequently, ever since I was in high school, so this was no shock to me. It would continue unabated once I was in Japan.
I enjoyed talking with my seat-mates and their friend Akari across the aisle. It was my first trial at trying to communicate with Japanese with limited language skills, and it wasn't too bad, though it did require a lot of energy. When we were eating lunch and Yukari tested me with an "Oishi des ka?" (Is it good/delicious?) I was able to respond readily with "Hai, oishi des" (Yes it is very good) but then amended my verdict to "Maa maa," or "so-so" since airline food is nothing to rave about. My companions seemed to like me and asked me to keep in contact with them (we exchanged e-mails) and invited me to visit them in Tokyo if I had the chance.
I spent my 14 hours on the plane reading, writing in my journal, chatting with my neighbors, and napping, with the occasional TV program. I never grew restless and all in all it was a pretty enjoyable trip. Would I do it frequently? No, but it is very doable, in my opinion.
Narita
My flight ended in Haneda Airport, located in Narita city which is about 60 kilometers east of Tokyo at about 14:00 April 1 (it was 1:00am on the East Coast). I felt relatively perky from two naps on the plane, which disappeared quickly after getting in line at immigration, where I had to wait approximately 20 minutes before finally passing through immigration. It was not fun having to stand with my relatively heavy backpack, but I passed through without any problem. I easily located my luggage and made my way through customs, which was also painless. Once I was out in the main foyer of the departures area of Terminal 1, my journey really began. I first had to change money, which was really depressing because the exchange rate was poor: $1 : ~90 Japanese yen. Before the current US economic slump, the rate was easily 1:120, so I was a bit bummed.
The signs around the airport were written in both Kanji (imported Chinese characters) and English, so finding my way around was not a problem. My next stop after changing money was picking up my shinkansen (bullet train) ticket that would take me from Tokyo to Akita the next day (April 2). After asking at two different ticket booths I finally found the correct one on the lower floor of Terminal 1, which is the Narita Airport Japan Rail (JR) station. Once inside I tried to explain to the lady at the desk what I wanted and showed her the copy of my e-mail confirmation. After a little confusion we worked it out and I got my ticket.
I was staying the night in Narita instead of going directly to Tokyo. The hotel I was staying at, the Narita Port Hotel, had a shuttle that came to the Airport, so I found my way to the pick up spot and waited for the shuttle. It was about 11C (~52F), breezy, bright, and about 15:30 by this time (Japan used 24-hr time, and so will I). I had missed the last shuttle by about 10 minutes, so I had to wait until 16:15 until the next one arrived. It gave me a much needed break and time to rest and collect myself. All while I was in the airport getting my money and ticket I had been lugging my two large suitcases, which was giving me quite a work out.
The shuttle picked me up (as well as some other tourists, both Japanese and foreign) and stopped at Terminal 2. On the way I was able to have some sense of how big the Haneda Airport complex is. It took me a minute or two to realize that we were also driving on the left side of the road, and that the interior of the bus was the mirror image of what I was used to. I of course knew that many countries drive opposite that of the US, but I hadn't realized Japan was one of them. I also saw a few strips of cherry trees along the way, their white and pink blossoms in full bloom and clinging tenaciously to their boughs in the strong gusts of wind.
The Nariat Port Hotel is only a couple of miles from the main Airport campus, and with the few stops the ride was approximately 20 minutes. Upon arriving I was able to check in without any problems and bring my stuff up to my room, on the 8th floor (there are 10 floors). The indoor of the hotel was very much like any other hotel I had been in, with the exception of the uniformed Japanese employees.
My room was pretty small but comfortable for one person. After some looking around I discovered that to have electric access you had to leave the room key in a key slot that looks like this:
It's actually quite a good idea, because it means guests can't leave appliances on while they are out of the room, cutting down on energy costs. Plus, it serves as a convenient and safe place to always put your key when you are in the room.
Anyway, I quickly set up my laptop and connected to the Internet so I could call my parents on Skype. It was about 5:00pm in Japan, so 4:00 am in the States. I was able to talk with difficulty because the computer to home connection was poor, but I got the message across that I was safe in Japan and that I would e-mail them later.
At this point I finally had a chance to relax from all my traveling. I took a shower and checked my e-mails, sending a few out to assure people I had arrived in Japan safely. Originally my intention was to take a trip into center Narita to visit the Narita-san Shinsho-ji, an impressive Shinto temple. However, after looking at the shuttle schedule and thinking it over, I decided I couldn't visit the temple while it was still light outside (It was dark by 7:00pm), I was really hungry, and weariness from my flight was beginning to seep in, so I decided I would stay in. I ate in the hotel restaurant, called "Senses," which was very bright and clean with white marble floors and counters, and large windows looking over a small pond with carp swimming in it and a garden (I couldn't really make out much in the darkness though). It was kind of lonely to be eating dinner by myself, and I could feel a wave of homesickness rise just a little, but my hunger and fatigue easily won out.
After dinner (about 1200 yen) I headed up to bed and planned out my trip to Tokyo. The shinkansen that would take me to Akita departed from the Tokyo JR station. I could take the Narita Express from either the Narita JR station, or the Haneda Airport JR station. There wasn't a shuttle from the hotel that would take me to the Narita station in time, so I decided I would head back to airport the next day and take the train to Tokyo from there.
Everything planned and accounted for, I went to bed early, 20:00 and set my alarm for 6:00 the next morning. I was too tired to think about being very much alone.
The signs around the airport were written in both Kanji (imported Chinese characters) and English, so finding my way around was not a problem. My next stop after changing money was picking up my shinkansen (bullet train) ticket that would take me from Tokyo to Akita the next day (April 2). After asking at two different ticket booths I finally found the correct one on the lower floor of Terminal 1, which is the Narita Airport Japan Rail (JR) station. Once inside I tried to explain to the lady at the desk what I wanted and showed her the copy of my e-mail confirmation. After a little confusion we worked it out and I got my ticket.
I was staying the night in Narita instead of going directly to Tokyo. The hotel I was staying at, the Narita Port Hotel, had a shuttle that came to the Airport, so I found my way to the pick up spot and waited for the shuttle. It was about 11C (~52F), breezy, bright, and about 15:30 by this time (Japan used 24-hr time, and so will I). I had missed the last shuttle by about 10 minutes, so I had to wait until 16:15 until the next one arrived. It gave me a much needed break and time to rest and collect myself. All while I was in the airport getting my money and ticket I had been lugging my two large suitcases, which was giving me quite a work out.
The shuttle picked me up (as well as some other tourists, both Japanese and foreign) and stopped at Terminal 2. On the way I was able to have some sense of how big the Haneda Airport complex is. It took me a minute or two to realize that we were also driving on the left side of the road, and that the interior of the bus was the mirror image of what I was used to. I of course knew that many countries drive opposite that of the US, but I hadn't realized Japan was one of them. I also saw a few strips of cherry trees along the way, their white and pink blossoms in full bloom and clinging tenaciously to their boughs in the strong gusts of wind.
The Nariat Port Hotel is only a couple of miles from the main Airport campus, and with the few stops the ride was approximately 20 minutes. Upon arriving I was able to check in without any problems and bring my stuff up to my room, on the 8th floor (there are 10 floors). The indoor of the hotel was very much like any other hotel I had been in, with the exception of the uniformed Japanese employees.
My room was pretty small but comfortable for one person. After some looking around I discovered that to have electric access you had to leave the room key in a key slot that looks like this:
It's actually quite a good idea, because it means guests can't leave appliances on while they are out of the room, cutting down on energy costs. Plus, it serves as a convenient and safe place to always put your key when you are in the room.
Anyway, I quickly set up my laptop and connected to the Internet so I could call my parents on Skype. It was about 5:00pm in Japan, so 4:00 am in the States. I was able to talk with difficulty because the computer to home connection was poor, but I got the message across that I was safe in Japan and that I would e-mail them later.
At this point I finally had a chance to relax from all my traveling. I took a shower and checked my e-mails, sending a few out to assure people I had arrived in Japan safely. Originally my intention was to take a trip into center Narita to visit the Narita-san Shinsho-ji, an impressive Shinto temple. However, after looking at the shuttle schedule and thinking it over, I decided I couldn't visit the temple while it was still light outside (It was dark by 7:00pm), I was really hungry, and weariness from my flight was beginning to seep in, so I decided I would stay in. I ate in the hotel restaurant, called "Senses," which was very bright and clean with white marble floors and counters, and large windows looking over a small pond with carp swimming in it and a garden (I couldn't really make out much in the darkness though). It was kind of lonely to be eating dinner by myself, and I could feel a wave of homesickness rise just a little, but my hunger and fatigue easily won out.
After dinner (about 1200 yen) I headed up to bed and planned out my trip to Tokyo. The shinkansen that would take me to Akita departed from the Tokyo JR station. I could take the Narita Express from either the Narita JR station, or the Haneda Airport JR station. There wasn't a shuttle from the hotel that would take me to the Narita station in time, so I decided I would head back to airport the next day and take the train to Tokyo from there.
Everything planned and accounted for, I went to bed early, 20:00 and set my alarm for 6:00 the next morning. I was too tired to think about being very much alone.
Narita Express to Tokyo
I woke up the next day at 6:00 as planned and packed everything up. I headed down for breakfast, which was a mandatory buffet, 2100 yen. I only wanted some cereal and toast, so this was a bit of a disappointment. I tried to make the most of my yen by packing it in. I could see much more of the outside pond and garden now that it was daylight, and saw that it surrounded a wing of the hotel that extended from the main complex and looked like it housed a private meeting/banquet room. Breakfast was a mixture of Japanese and "Western" style: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, cereal, toast and jelly, salmon, hard-boiled egg, miso soup, rice, fruit, cooked broccoli, and some other food I couldn't quite identify. I sticked to my western fair, as it would be quite a day of traveling and I didn't want to be adventurous only to have to pay for it on the plane, if you know what I mean.
After breakfast, I checked out, closing with a "domo arigato gozaimas!" (thank you very much!), which, as usual, was greeted with much appreciation. While I found this to be somewhat amusing, I felt a little embarrassed that because I knew so little Japanese, saying the simplest of phrases like "thank you" garnered so much appreciation. I feel that in the US, if a Japanese person came and could only say "please" and "thank you" in English, that person would not have been welcomed as warmly. It reminded me of just how privileged I am to have been born in the US; as the seat of economic power it is the rest of the world who must learn to cater to me, not the other way around. The fact that I had put so little effort into learning Japanese, and yet still traveled there knowing I would be just fine, just shows you how hypocritical my arguments can be when I criticize US imperialism, and then turn around and reap the benefits anyway. It's very depressing.
Anyway, enough of the politics. As I was waiting for the shuttle, I watched a group of about 100 or so business people ("salarymen and salarywomen") who appeared to all work for the same corporation and were on a business trip file into two coach buses. They all wore suits and seemed to be in their late 20's or so (although it is hard for me to accurately gauge the ages of Japanese people...I always guess too low).
The trip to the airport was almost uneventful; the one little bump was passing through the security gate. A uniformed woman came on board and said something in Japanese as she casually walked to the back of the bus, which I did not understand except for the word "Passaporto" or passport. It was obvious she wanted to check passports, and fortunately mine was readily accessible so I pulled it out. She glanced at it and made her way down the aisle, checking a few others, said something else in Japanese and then left. I hadn't expected that, though I'm not exactly a seasoned international traveler.
Fortunately, I knew where I was going since I had been to the JR Station the previous day to pick up my shinkansen ticket. I went back to the booth but used the automatic ticket machine this time. There was an option for English, which made purchasing my ticket for the Narita Express to Tokyo a snap. I made my way to the platform, passing through the gate with minor difficulty since I had my two large suitcases.
Once on the correct platform, I saw that car numbers were posted on the wall and on the platform itself, indicating which car would be stopped at which location. I was in Car 2, which meant I had to walk quite a distance down the platform to the correct spot. Along the way, I saw two other couples and heard them speaking rapidly in Spanish. This caught me off guard, as I wasn't expecting to see fellow Spanish speakers in Narita. I didn't greet them or say hello, but simply moved on.
The train arrived about ten minutes early. After all the passengers got off I immediately got on with my suitcases and deposited them in the designated area at the end of the car. As I found my seat, a Japanese worker said something to me in Japanese, which I couldn't understand. He kept saying something like "Cureening" and indicated that he wanted me to get off the train. I became flustered but did as he asked, grabbing my suitcases on the way out. It was only after I was standing for a moment that I realized he was saying "Cleaning" and sure enough there he was looking for trash and wiping down various surfaces. I felt like an imbecile, especially since I could see other passengers waiting outside the train who had clearly knew what the procedures were. But I admonished myself that I was bound to make mistakes, and that it wasn't a big deal as long as I learned from them and was as polite as possible.
Once the doors opened I re-entered the train, re-deposited my bags, and re-located my seat. The ride from Narita Airport was a little over an hour, which I spent updating the Moleskine journal I had bought for solely for my Japan trip. A short woman in a uniform pushed a cart down the car, offering such goodies as coffee, juice, water, snacks, danishes, and other goodies. I declined. When I was done updating my journal, I looked out the window and watched the landscape of various suburbs and other developed areas roll by. It was both a familiar and unfamiliar scene. The sprawl was reminiscent of just about any suburb of the US, but the actual buildings were a bit different, smaller, some with rippled tiles on the roof, signs in Kanji and Hiragana, and people driving on the left side of the road. The vegetation that I saw was also slightly different, with very tall trees whose branches didn't start for a couple meters, and a green fern that grew close to the ground that I was not familiar with. I could also see lines of cherry trees in various areas.
There was an electronic ticker over the door to the compartment that indicated in both Japanese and English where we were stopping, and over the PTA system there were announcements in both languages to the same effect, as well as the upcoming stop. It would be pretty hard to miss my stop. I didn't see any of Tokyo when we arrived. We entered underground tunnels on the way in, and the actual station is all underground so I never once stepped into the hustle and bustle of the city itself. I plan on doing so later in the semester, but for now I had about a half hour to locate the platform for the Komachi shinkansen. The signs, as before, were in Japanese as well as English, and I followed the directions for the shinkansen. This station was incredibly busy. There were tons of people everywhere, all hustling and bustling. I felt self-conscious with my two large suitcases, but pushed my way through, saying sumimasen (excuse me) when I needed to squeeze through.
I had trouble going through the ticket gate at the shinkansen because for some reason my ticket wouldn't take. After a minute or two of struggling, a uniformed guard wearing a cotton face mask (common at this time of the year when people prone to hay fever and allergies wear face masks to alleviate allergies) finally took my ticket, punched it for me and let me through. I was so flustered and embarrassed I couldn't even manage a simple arigato and moved on with my face burning.
I got over it as I tried to read the electronic ticker that explained which shinkansen was stationed at which platform. The only English on the ticker was the name of the different lines, so it took me a couple of minutes to find the Komachi line. It was on platform 23. I made my way over, and once on the platform took a breather. I had about 15 minutes before the train would leave, and currently there was another train on the platform about to leave. For someone with no Japanese skills, it was surprisingly simple to navigate the station, as long as you keep your wits about you and know the name of your destination and train line.
I realized that the area I was standing in was designated for car 8, and I was ticketed for car 16. I made my way with difficulty down the platform. Unlike at the Haneda JR station, this platform was smaller and the center was filled with little magazine stands of the occasional escalator, which made traveling space delegated to a short strip on the edge of the platform. Imagine going down about 400 meters pushing through crowds of people and toting two very large suitcases at the edge of the platform and you can imagine how much fun it was to finally get to where car 16 was scheduled to stop. I breathed a sigh of relief, and not two minutes after I got there my shinkansen pulled in.
I got into the famed bullet train with some difficulty, and immediately my stomach sank; there was no suitcase area, but rather just overhead compartments that would not hold my suitcases without posing a serious hazard. I moved out of the way of the entrance as I considered my options, and I noticed that there was, in fact, a solution. In between the two cars was a small alcove, about 1.5 meters wide and two meters tall, with a large suitcase symbol on it. If I stacked my suitcases one standing long-wise on the other, they would fit. I saw that there were bars that could be adjusted to fit across the suitcases to prevent toppling, as well as a a long strap with Velcro that could be used to further secure my luggage. I quickly assembled everything, discovering these features as I went, and then took a breath before finding my seat.
I was sharing my seat with another Japanese youth, probably mid-20's (again), but he was sitting in the window seat. My ticket technically gave me the window seat. I decided it wasn't worth the trouble of trying to communicate to him that I wanted my seat, and instead put my backpack on the overhead compartment and sat down. After a few minutes, the doors closed, and my train began it's 4 hour journey from Tokyo to Akita city.
After breakfast, I checked out, closing with a "domo arigato gozaimas!" (thank you very much!), which, as usual, was greeted with much appreciation. While I found this to be somewhat amusing, I felt a little embarrassed that because I knew so little Japanese, saying the simplest of phrases like "thank you" garnered so much appreciation. I feel that in the US, if a Japanese person came and could only say "please" and "thank you" in English, that person would not have been welcomed as warmly. It reminded me of just how privileged I am to have been born in the US; as the seat of economic power it is the rest of the world who must learn to cater to me, not the other way around. The fact that I had put so little effort into learning Japanese, and yet still traveled there knowing I would be just fine, just shows you how hypocritical my arguments can be when I criticize US imperialism, and then turn around and reap the benefits anyway. It's very depressing.
Anyway, enough of the politics. As I was waiting for the shuttle, I watched a group of about 100 or so business people ("salarymen and salarywomen") who appeared to all work for the same corporation and were on a business trip file into two coach buses. They all wore suits and seemed to be in their late 20's or so (although it is hard for me to accurately gauge the ages of Japanese people...I always guess too low).
The trip to the airport was almost uneventful; the one little bump was passing through the security gate. A uniformed woman came on board and said something in Japanese as she casually walked to the back of the bus, which I did not understand except for the word "Passaporto" or passport. It was obvious she wanted to check passports, and fortunately mine was readily accessible so I pulled it out. She glanced at it and made her way down the aisle, checking a few others, said something else in Japanese and then left. I hadn't expected that, though I'm not exactly a seasoned international traveler.
Fortunately, I knew where I was going since I had been to the JR Station the previous day to pick up my shinkansen ticket. I went back to the booth but used the automatic ticket machine this time. There was an option for English, which made purchasing my ticket for the Narita Express to Tokyo a snap. I made my way to the platform, passing through the gate with minor difficulty since I had my two large suitcases.
Once on the correct platform, I saw that car numbers were posted on the wall and on the platform itself, indicating which car would be stopped at which location. I was in Car 2, which meant I had to walk quite a distance down the platform to the correct spot. Along the way, I saw two other couples and heard them speaking rapidly in Spanish. This caught me off guard, as I wasn't expecting to see fellow Spanish speakers in Narita. I didn't greet them or say hello, but simply moved on.
The train arrived about ten minutes early. After all the passengers got off I immediately got on with my suitcases and deposited them in the designated area at the end of the car. As I found my seat, a Japanese worker said something to me in Japanese, which I couldn't understand. He kept saying something like "Cureening" and indicated that he wanted me to get off the train. I became flustered but did as he asked, grabbing my suitcases on the way out. It was only after I was standing for a moment that I realized he was saying "Cleaning" and sure enough there he was looking for trash and wiping down various surfaces. I felt like an imbecile, especially since I could see other passengers waiting outside the train who had clearly knew what the procedures were. But I admonished myself that I was bound to make mistakes, and that it wasn't a big deal as long as I learned from them and was as polite as possible.
Once the doors opened I re-entered the train, re-deposited my bags, and re-located my seat. The ride from Narita Airport was a little over an hour, which I spent updating the Moleskine journal I had bought for solely for my Japan trip. A short woman in a uniform pushed a cart down the car, offering such goodies as coffee, juice, water, snacks, danishes, and other goodies. I declined. When I was done updating my journal, I looked out the window and watched the landscape of various suburbs and other developed areas roll by. It was both a familiar and unfamiliar scene. The sprawl was reminiscent of just about any suburb of the US, but the actual buildings were a bit different, smaller, some with rippled tiles on the roof, signs in Kanji and Hiragana, and people driving on the left side of the road. The vegetation that I saw was also slightly different, with very tall trees whose branches didn't start for a couple meters, and a green fern that grew close to the ground that I was not familiar with. I could also see lines of cherry trees in various areas.
There was an electronic ticker over the door to the compartment that indicated in both Japanese and English where we were stopping, and over the PTA system there were announcements in both languages to the same effect, as well as the upcoming stop. It would be pretty hard to miss my stop. I didn't see any of Tokyo when we arrived. We entered underground tunnels on the way in, and the actual station is all underground so I never once stepped into the hustle and bustle of the city itself. I plan on doing so later in the semester, but for now I had about a half hour to locate the platform for the Komachi shinkansen. The signs, as before, were in Japanese as well as English, and I followed the directions for the shinkansen. This station was incredibly busy. There were tons of people everywhere, all hustling and bustling. I felt self-conscious with my two large suitcases, but pushed my way through, saying sumimasen (excuse me) when I needed to squeeze through.
I had trouble going through the ticket gate at the shinkansen because for some reason my ticket wouldn't take. After a minute or two of struggling, a uniformed guard wearing a cotton face mask (common at this time of the year when people prone to hay fever and allergies wear face masks to alleviate allergies) finally took my ticket, punched it for me and let me through. I was so flustered and embarrassed I couldn't even manage a simple arigato and moved on with my face burning.
I got over it as I tried to read the electronic ticker that explained which shinkansen was stationed at which platform. The only English on the ticker was the name of the different lines, so it took me a couple of minutes to find the Komachi line. It was on platform 23. I made my way over, and once on the platform took a breather. I had about 15 minutes before the train would leave, and currently there was another train on the platform about to leave. For someone with no Japanese skills, it was surprisingly simple to navigate the station, as long as you keep your wits about you and know the name of your destination and train line.
I realized that the area I was standing in was designated for car 8, and I was ticketed for car 16. I made my way with difficulty down the platform. Unlike at the Haneda JR station, this platform was smaller and the center was filled with little magazine stands of the occasional escalator, which made traveling space delegated to a short strip on the edge of the platform. Imagine going down about 400 meters pushing through crowds of people and toting two very large suitcases at the edge of the platform and you can imagine how much fun it was to finally get to where car 16 was scheduled to stop. I breathed a sigh of relief, and not two minutes after I got there my shinkansen pulled in.
I got into the famed bullet train with some difficulty, and immediately my stomach sank; there was no suitcase area, but rather just overhead compartments that would not hold my suitcases without posing a serious hazard. I moved out of the way of the entrance as I considered my options, and I noticed that there was, in fact, a solution. In between the two cars was a small alcove, about 1.5 meters wide and two meters tall, with a large suitcase symbol on it. If I stacked my suitcases one standing long-wise on the other, they would fit. I saw that there were bars that could be adjusted to fit across the suitcases to prevent toppling, as well as a a long strap with Velcro that could be used to further secure my luggage. I quickly assembled everything, discovering these features as I went, and then took a breath before finding my seat.
I was sharing my seat with another Japanese youth, probably mid-20's (again), but he was sitting in the window seat. My ticket technically gave me the window seat. I decided it wasn't worth the trouble of trying to communicate to him that I wanted my seat, and instead put my backpack on the overhead compartment and sat down. After a few minutes, the doors closed, and my train began it's 4 hour journey from Tokyo to Akita city.
Komachi Shinkansen to Akita
I spent some time updating my journal once more, and took stock of my surroundings. The shinkansen was a bit thinner than the train I had taken from Haneda Airport to Tokyo, but the seats and accommodations were a bit more comfortable. As we left Tokyo, I saw only glimpses of the outskirts of the city but still missed the major metropolis. About 20 minutes into the trip, we exited the main uban sprawl and more of the countryside could be seen. I could see beautifully grand mountains rise up majestically through my left window. At home, I was used to seeing large rolling hills, especially on my trips from home to Ithaca, but never anything like these jagged, snow-topped peaks. There was a thin haze of mist between me and the mountains, giving the scene an illusory quality. The peaks threatened to clip the underside of the cumulostratus clouds that skidded overhead. Watching this landscape brought vivid memories of Mrs. Paul, who was my Earth and Space science teacher in high school, and who had taught me about clouds, about tectonic plate movements that give rise to mountains and volcanoes that comprise most of Japan, and who herself had been to Japan a couple of times and had recounted some stories of her own travels.
I didn't speak to my seat-mate on the shinkansen, who contented himself to reading a manga, a Japenese style comic book that is now read by people of all ages, and listening to his MP3 player. I glanced at the various reading materials of a middle-aged "salaryman" that sat diagonally across the aisle from me, also in an aisle seat. I looked at the Kanji-filled newspaper and saw how similar to US periodicals the different ads and pop outs were in design, though they also made us of the fact that Japanese Kanji can be read in almost any direction: left-to-right, right-to-left, or top-to-bottom (the vertical rows can then be read either left to right or right to left).
About two hours into the trip, my seat-mate got off and I was able to claim my window seat. By this time, we were well into the Northern reaches of Japan, far from most of the developed areas. Now that I could finally take some pictures, I had lost most of the great views of the mountains from before, but I made do with what I could. If you check out the album on the right titled "Shinkansen to Akita" you'll see a slide show of the pictures I was able to take. Most of these pictures are near or within the Akita Prefecture (a prefecture is basically a state). Akita Prefecture is one of the poorest prefecture in Japan, and is a much more agrarian culture. In the album you'll see pictures of the landscape, which is a bit more rugged, fields and fields of rice paddies (not yet planted as it is only April), and the kinds of houses and buildings in the area. There were markedly more tunnels and underpasses on this leg of the trip, which made taking pictures a bit more difficult.
I could also see at various times plots of land with rectangular black headstones and other small statues that make up Japanese graveyards. I also saw a temple or two, easily located by the large red gate (torii), and a few small shrines. It made me even more excited to learn more about the native Japanese Shinto and other religious customs found here.
At about 14:00, April 1, I arrived at Akita station. As my final hurdle, I now had to take a cab to the University, and this, ironically, was the hardest part. I had some difficulty finding my way out of the station, and suddenly found myself in a small shopping center that was connected with the JR station. I felt like an idiot with my two suitcases and backpack as I walked around the shopping area, the Japanese shoppers eying me with mild humor, and looked for the exit. It was about this time that I remembered that in Japan the exit is a green sign, not a red one, and quickly made my way out of the store, again cursing my stupidity.
Once outside, I easily found the line of taxi cabs, but had a very difficult time trying to explain to the driver where I wanted to go. I had a post card with the address of the school on it, but it was written in roman script (romanji in Japan) and I incorrectly assumed the cab driver would be able to understand the script. Fortunately, another cab driver was able to help translate my "Akita International University" into something my driver could understand, and off it went. The driver told me something in Japanese as we headed out, and seeing I didn't understand, wrote down the number 25 and a kanji next to it, which after a moment I realized had to be the symbol for minute, which meant it would be some time before arriving at the school. I knew it was going to be a bit of a leg, and reluctantly paid him the 5600 yen for the half hour cab ride. Fortunately, it is customary in Japan not to tip. I later learned that I could have taken the local JR train to a closer station in Wada, and then taken a very short cab ride to the school, which probably would have saved me something like 2000 yen or so.
And with that, at about 14:30pm on April 1, I finally made it to Akita International University! I will update again in a few days with stories from Orientation and such. I hope you all enjoyed the trip, and I look forward to talking more about my time here at the school!
I didn't speak to my seat-mate on the shinkansen, who contented himself to reading a manga, a Japenese style comic book that is now read by people of all ages, and listening to his MP3 player. I glanced at the various reading materials of a middle-aged "salaryman" that sat diagonally across the aisle from me, also in an aisle seat. I looked at the Kanji-filled newspaper and saw how similar to US periodicals the different ads and pop outs were in design, though they also made us of the fact that Japanese Kanji can be read in almost any direction: left-to-right, right-to-left, or top-to-bottom (the vertical rows can then be read either left to right or right to left).
About two hours into the trip, my seat-mate got off and I was able to claim my window seat. By this time, we were well into the Northern reaches of Japan, far from most of the developed areas. Now that I could finally take some pictures, I had lost most of the great views of the mountains from before, but I made do with what I could. If you check out the album on the right titled "Shinkansen to Akita" you'll see a slide show of the pictures I was able to take. Most of these pictures are near or within the Akita Prefecture (a prefecture is basically a state). Akita Prefecture is one of the poorest prefecture in Japan, and is a much more agrarian culture. In the album you'll see pictures of the landscape, which is a bit more rugged, fields and fields of rice paddies (not yet planted as it is only April), and the kinds of houses and buildings in the area. There were markedly more tunnels and underpasses on this leg of the trip, which made taking pictures a bit more difficult.
I could also see at various times plots of land with rectangular black headstones and other small statues that make up Japanese graveyards. I also saw a temple or two, easily located by the large red gate (torii), and a few small shrines. It made me even more excited to learn more about the native Japanese Shinto and other religious customs found here.
At about 14:00, April 1, I arrived at Akita station. As my final hurdle, I now had to take a cab to the University, and this, ironically, was the hardest part. I had some difficulty finding my way out of the station, and suddenly found myself in a small shopping center that was connected with the JR station. I felt like an idiot with my two suitcases and backpack as I walked around the shopping area, the Japanese shoppers eying me with mild humor, and looked for the exit. It was about this time that I remembered that in Japan the exit is a green sign, not a red one, and quickly made my way out of the store, again cursing my stupidity.
Once outside, I easily found the line of taxi cabs, but had a very difficult time trying to explain to the driver where I wanted to go. I had a post card with the address of the school on it, but it was written in roman script (romanji in Japan) and I incorrectly assumed the cab driver would be able to understand the script. Fortunately, another cab driver was able to help translate my "Akita International University" into something my driver could understand, and off it went. The driver told me something in Japanese as we headed out, and seeing I didn't understand, wrote down the number 25 and a kanji next to it, which after a moment I realized had to be the symbol for minute, which meant it would be some time before arriving at the school. I knew it was going to be a bit of a leg, and reluctantly paid him the 5600 yen for the half hour cab ride. Fortunately, it is customary in Japan not to tip. I later learned that I could have taken the local JR train to a closer station in Wada, and then taken a very short cab ride to the school, which probably would have saved me something like 2000 yen or so.
And with that, at about 14:30pm on April 1, I finally made it to Akita International University! I will update again in a few days with stories from Orientation and such. I hope you all enjoyed the trip, and I look forward to talking more about my time here at the school!
1 comment:
Hearing of your Japanese language experiences remind me of my own when I went to Belgium: Whenever I spoke any French, no matter how bad it was, shopkeepers and ticket-booth clerks always praised my effort.
I'm having trouble keeping up with your writing pace, but I'll try to keep on reading. It's great hearing about your travels!
Brian
Post a Comment