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Published: June 24th 2011
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This morning I awoke with a pounding headache and backache, I assume from dehydration and sitting for so long- 11 hour flight, 1 hour train ride, 1 hour sitting and discussing our plans over a map= 13 hours sitting.
This morning we had a brunch-buffet in the hotel restaurant. The hotel was fancy: marble, clean and shiny. The buffet offered an array of fruits, funny looking fish, yogurt, rice miso soup (with add-in ingredients on the side), toast, croissants, eggs and more. We were there for about an hour, eating, sipping and chatting away the morning. I enjoyed a safe bowl of rice, miso soup, and white bread. Yes, very safe and American, but with radiation spewing in the air I vowed not to eat any poultry, fish, vegetable or fruit, or at least
try not to.
Right now I’m sitting in the waiting area for the train from Tokyo to Sendai. We have about thirty minutes until our train departs. Above our heads the ceiling are rattling. I assume trains must be running by because it is loud and the ceiling is quivering.
The people inside the station, the many, many people, wear suits. Plain
Train Station in Tokyo
Train schedule in the Tokyo train station black suits with white or a very light color like blue or purple button up shirt underneath. Briefcases and laptops are in hand. Females wear women’s business clothes: pencil skirts, nylons, blazers and button up blouses. Some wear pant suits. Others are free in their style and vividly express themselves through color and fashion accessories.
There are so many bodies inside the station. About 95 percent dressed in business attire walking in thick straight lines, not swerving. I took too long to slide my ticket in the kiosk and a lady’s hand was already trying to slide hers in, in a systematic motion. It was not a rude jester, as the hurried in America can offer, but a robotic one.
The buildings are plain and grey, except for food vendors and bright signs with Japanese letters, which I assume are advertisements.
Side-note, same clothes as I wore yesterday..
At least a quarter of the people wear face masks. Antibacterial sprays are everywhere. Fukiko says Japanese people are very concerned about their cleanliness. For example, the restaurant we had brunch in was shiny and illuminated by ceiling lights that bounced off food trays, floors and table tops.
Even the toilets are clean and offer four different buttons. None of which I understood, except a graphic that had water splashing on a pair of butt cheeks. I figured that one out.
I still haven’t’ used the water. I drink out of water bottles and wash my hands with wipes and antibacterial gel that I brought. My toothbrush does not get washed; I just dry it off with a napkin or toilet paper, whichever is closer and place it back into its Ziploc bag.
I feel as though I’m in a race. I can already see the finish line and I want to be across it. My body aches, my mind is confused, but I see my plane landing in Los Angeles, and I’m on it. I can see my parents as I run up to them and hug them like I’ve never hugged them as tears roll down my bagged eyes. Only a few more days, and plus this is my way of
helping , exhaustion and jet lag aside.
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