Hey Everyone!

Hey everyone! I made it safely! Mom and Dad: homeland security turned out not to be such a big deal after all (the man with the white rubber gloves was surprisingly gentle). I did have my doubts though. After I left you and headed toward the gate I saw people taking off their shoes and putting them into a basket. The woman behind me had flip-flops on, and some people weren’t taking off their shoes at all. I decided to be one of those people since I really wasn’t in the mood. I thought I’d give it a shot. I just put my bags and passport into the basket and pushed it through. Then I walked through the metal detector when prompted and went on my way. The only thing the guy on the other side made a fuss about (not really a fuss), was me leaving my laptop in the bag. No big deal, he just put it in the basket and sent it back through.

So, now with my bag back and not a lace untied, I had to figure out where the heck I was going without anyone there to guide me. I just kept my eyes open and it was really straight forward (literally). I walked straight, saw a sign that said gates no.1-some odd number this way, and followed that. So I stopped at the gate I thought was mine (more on that later), and sat down to put my stuff back in order that homeland security had mixed up. While I was doing that I heard over the loudspeaker that passengers should be sure to be on the plane 20 minutes before departure. At this point I found and re-analyzed my ticket. I was sitting in a waiting seat for gate 34; my gate was 54. Ooops. So I stood up checked the signs and sure enough I had walked to the left instead of the right. If you go to the left the gate numbers get lower. So I hiked over to where 54 was, and it must have been destiny because just as I stepped onto the carpeted waiting area, they called my name over the speaker. So I walked up to the desk and told them that I heard my name called, and they wanted me to show them my passport… In case I had somehow made it through the homeland security gate without one… riiight. I think they just like my passport. Everyone asks to see it now, but I digress.

By this time it was almost 3. There were indeed many Japanese people showing up, and also many from the Philippines. I wasn’t aware, but after my flight arrived in Nagoya, It continued on to Manila in the Philippines. Who knew? They certainly didn’t tell me about it online. Anyway, the rest of the time was spent boarding the passengers with disabilities first, then the ones with strollers, then business class people, then the rest of us mongrels.

Ahh the plane. The memories. Where shall I start. I guess I should start by telling you that at the time of this writing (10:35 PM Japan Standard Time), I am just starting to recover from feeling as sick as a dog… I went on the plane feeling like a million bucks and like I could take anything the world could throw at me, and I came off barley able to hold my lunch down. I was the last one out of the security gate once we arrived because the first thing I did in Japan was to find the nearest bathroom and go regain equilibrium…. And learn how to use a bidet toilet (more on that later). Anyway the flight. It was LOOOONG. What on earth was I thinking? The whole thing in one shot? Good grief. And sleeping? Ha! Not when the plane is moving around and shuttering like It was, and little bratty kids screaming mom mom mom!, and having Mazda leg and elbow room. By the end of the flight I would have slept across just about anyone’s lap. As it was you had to rub shoulders with them, and wake them up to go to the bathroom. I sat between a Japanese guy who barely spoke English and liked his jack daniels, (he killed quite a few travel size bottles), and an old snoring dude, (the kind that always has something in their throat). So forget using a laptop on board. It was kind of like being shipped to Japan in a cardboard box, except the served breakfast lunch and dinner and made sure you had plenty of fluids. Okay so it wasn’t like a cardboard box, but I had just about that much moving room. They also had in-flight movies… 4 of them. I couldn’t help thinking as the time wore on, If I were going to St. Louis I would be there. If I were going to Miami, I would be there… If I were going to, and so on. Lets see, there was, Failure to Launch: which made me think, oh, they launched me alright, I launched just fine, now I’m having second thoughts about this whole launching thing. Followed by Eight Below (which by all rights should have been a quarter that length); and then curious george, (DO NOT recommend this movie to ANYONE: read the children’s books and remember george that way); and finally that bruce willis cop movie: I can’t remember the name. But it just started and then cut out. These movies were all interspersed with a display showing the remaining flight time, altitude and so on.

Where did it all go wrong you ask? Lets just say they saved the fireworks for the end. You know that feeling when your on a boat too long? Like your body’s just had enough of being tossed and turned and rolled. Maybe you don’t. It’s also like being on an elevator that’s elevating a little too fast and you can feel your stomach hit the floor. Well we got within 1 hour of Japan. By this time I had had enough and couldn’t think about anything but landing. I couldn’t sleep, I felt queasy, but the fun wasn’t over. The jet hit a rough spot or an air-pocket or something. Rough enough for the captain to tell the flight attendants to take their jump seats for a while. I thought it would never end… I really thought I was going to loose my cookies. I didn’t. but I suuuure felt like it. And after that, I thought we would NEVER land. He said we were going to land, then he said fasten ur seatbelts for the approach and close the baggage compartments, then he said something about after you arrive, and so on.

As I mentioned, when I got to Japan, I was the last one out. Everyone had already moved on to the baggage claim area. I lingered in the bathroom and just sat there for a few minutes to hold down that sick feeling. Then, while looking around for something to dry my hands with after washing them a nice fellow-traveler who was going on to Manila gave me a towel and just said keep it. Then I walked out, and followed the lane down just like the video on the website. Pretty easy. I saw a lineup of people and thought that must be the one I should be in so I waited. Now I forgot to mention that during the flight the flight attendants were handing out forms for Americans staying in Japan. I passed since I didn’t think it would be anything I would need. When we were getting off the plane the snoring guy that sat next to me said I maybe should have gotten one. I figured it couldn’t hurt so I found the attendant and got one. Back to the line. By the size of the line, I figured I would have time to fill out the form while I waited, but I didn’t have a pen. So I asked this nice Japanese lady if she had one and she saw the form and asked me, “are you going to Manila?”. I said, “no”, “Japan”. And she said, “oh, you need to go through there” and pointed to some gate in the distance. So she helped me fill out the form and walked me over to the gate which she thought was closed since everyone had gone through. Just then some uniformed guy asks her something like, “is he one of those foreigner guys?, to which she replies, “yeah, I found a straggler”. So he waves me over and checks my form and lets me through the gate. Then I walk through a roped section over to have my passport looked at again, and through another gate to baggage pickup, and another for customs, and out to the lobby.

Well you guys aren’t going to believe it; you were right about the sign! Remember the question of the sign? You know, “will he be there holding a sign that says Jordan”. Yes, he was: and it said Jordan, in big red letters. Now, before you meet someone you’ve never seen before, your mind has a curious way of trying to imagine what they would look like based on what you do know: like their name for instance, and perhaps the way they write email. In my case, I pictured this tall, grey mustachioed, western guy. I mean with a last name like “Brigham” it gave me that image. Turns out, he looks just like a Japanese! Seriously, this guy could get lost in the crowd. He looks like a Japanese Charlie Clark. He’s really short, dark hair, dark complexion, etc. So he made a few Jordan jokes, and asked me if I wanted something to eat, or to use the restroom. So I promptly explained to him that I had been fed a ton, but that It might be a good idea to sit down somewhere for a bit on something that doesn’t move for a while. So he said, “alright, I’ve got lots of time”, and took me over to the waiting seats where we talked for a bit.

After I pulled myself together, and he figured out which train he wanted to take, the craziness began. Immediately we got train tickets and hopped on a train bound for Anjo city. He rolled my bag for me, and we got on, talked for a while, and got off and headed for another one. We waded through crowds of Japanese people walking every which way, completely unconscious of people around them. They’ll bump into you, cut in front of you, rush past you, just like the japan-land book said. It’s nothing personal, it’s just what they do. It was push or be pushed, so I used my ninja-reflexes, and ballet-danced my way through the crowds onto an escalator. Mr. Brigham told me that I might want to move over to the left side of the escalator steps because the people that I didn’t notice behind me were like water behind a dam. As soon as I stepped aside, they rushed past, climbing the escalator faster than it could take them to the top. “Life in Japan is pretty fast-paced” he said.

Come to find out our train is delayed because someone decided to jump out onto the tracks…. A sadly all too common reason for delays in Japan. So we got JR tickets and got on that line instead, not the bullet train, mind you, but operated by JR and not tied up too. We switched cars a couple of times, and while we were going along the tracks in one Mr. Brigham remarked, “You’ve just been thrown into the heart of Japan, this is what it’s like, this is the daily commute. You can go through several of these and noone will say a thing to you. They usually don’t even look up. The only thing they say when they do say something is “Sumimasen”: Japanese for, “Pardon me” in passing. Well I was pretty beat and still feeling rough. I didn’t really catch most of what he was telling me because I was too busy trying not to be sick. So he mentioned that he had plans, and asked me if I would just like to head to a hotel to sleep. I said I probably should since he is planning to go to ichinomiya at 8 A.M. (japan) tomorrow, and then to meet some guy from his ministry for lunch; and if I want to have any chance of being awake, I should sleep off this nasty feeling and get a shower.

So here I am. My first hotel. I guess I’m going to be staying here for a couple of nights. He drove me over, checked me in, and showed me around my new room. It’s my first day in Japan, and already I’m experiencing technical difficulties. I plugged in the laptop matt gave me to an Ethernet jack that we found in here, and nothing. I tried a couple more times. But It just wasn’t going to happen, so I told him to e-mail mom and let her know I arrived, and tomorrow I would get online from his place and make this post to the blog. From the looks of it, they provided a cross-over cable. That’s probably the issue. I didn’t bring any cable with me though. So I just want to let you people know that I’m not sure how my internet access situation is going to be while I’m here. If I’m somewhere with wireless, I’ll try to use that and update you. As for the pictures and videos… I may include some pictures on the Blog, but for the most part, I might have to show you stuff when I get back… Sorry if I do. Also I have to email tamachan and let her know whats going on. Anyway… it’s late here.. I should get some rest. I just had to record the events today before I could let myself sleep. I already miss everyone. I’m here… I don’t understand anyone… Mr. Brigham seems nice. I’ll probably meet his wife tomorrow. He’s basically my link.

I’m already missing my creeky bed in Eastpointe, and my shower, which compared to this hotel one seems luxurious. It is well equipped, it’s just really small. The bidet is pretty cool when you figure out how to use it though. We need one for our house. Think of the money we would save on toilet paper! Its remote controlled, and has two modes and different pressures, and the flush runs for a long time for those dreaded overly-modest women using up the countries valuable natural resources! (ha). I really hope I don’t have to use a genuine Japanese-style toilet. So far I haven’t had too… maybe I’ll be lucky. But you never know. I miss yoshi, and the cats, and Ethan hogging my room, and all of you guys. I wish I could have brought one of you. I’m surrounded by a bunch of people speaking this Japanese stuff… I recognize these sights; stores, stations, kiosks, apartments, houses, streets, cars; these sounds: jazz trumpet music in the lobby of my hotel, jingles on trains; and these objects, refridgerators, tea makers, televisions, and yet I have to learn how to do it all here… with these characters written on them, and in this culture… it’s werid… anyway… I’ll write more later. Please leave comments. My battery is running out here… I’ll write later!