Day 1

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Welcome to the blog chronicling my trip to Japan. I suppose I should start by introducing myself, although most of you reading this probably already know me. I’m a Junior at LaGrange and a Computer Science major/Japanese minor. I’m also and avid video game player, and occasional writer. So, there you have it. Those are the basics. Now, on to the trip.

People have a lot of reasons for forging out on adventures, fame, wealth, the thrill of it. As for me, I tend to adventure vicariously (hence all the games). So, when I found out LaGrange’s Japanese program offered an exchange to Japan, I figured it was my chance to stop living vicariously. This would be MY adventure. My reasons? Well, there were three, really.

First up: Games. Yeah, probably a bad reason to do something like this, but it seems to me that most gamers, on some basic level, want to go to Japan. It’s like baseball fans going to Cooperstown, a sort of “place where it all began.” Of course, it doesn’t help that Japan sees a lot of interesting games that never make it to America. So, a lot of gamers tend to dream dreams of a magical place filled with unexplored gaming treasures when they think of Japan. It’s hard not to. Doesn’t matter that you couldn’t understand them. With enough trial and error, you could get through. More on this later.

Second: A Japanese Minor. Part of the Minor at LC is doing the exchange. When I first attending LC, I knew I wanted to take Japanese as a foreign language (see above). The first semester was a small class (all of five students), but I found the language fascinating, especially the study of kanji. I must have been the only one, because by the second semester, the other four had dropped out and it seemed the class was going to be cancelled for the second semester. Now, at LaGrange, you need 2 sequential semesters of a foreign language to satisfy the requirement. Thus, my predicament. It seemed the only way to keep studying language was to go in for the long haul. I had already expressed interest in taking the exchange, but now, I needed the commitment to study for another semester. So, I told them I was in for sure, and they decided to let me keep studying.

Third: Answering questions. I’ve always been close to my family and friends, and it’s been nice having them help me out. Still, I’ve always wondered how I would fare on my own, without anyone else to fall back on. This seemed like a way to find the answer to that question. It was my adventure. Of course, I’m not totally alone (I have the head of the exchange school’s international center and the host mother to help me out), but I’m going to need to rely on myself for a lot of things in a completely alien environment. It was a challenge, and I wanted to know “Could I do it?”

So, for these reasons (and more) I now find myself looking out the window of a hotel, looking a a big neon sing that blazes “両国リバーホテル” (Ryogoku River Hotel) into the night of Tokyo. It’s the start of my adventure.


Preparations

That’s not to say that I just threw a few things in a suitcase and decided “I’m going to Tokyo!” I’m not crazy. I spent the better part of a year researching Japan, the costs of the trip, what I would need, and took classes for nearly 4 semesters. I talked to everyone who had been to Japan that I could, stranger or not. I read internet sites on how to behave in a homestay, how to take the train, how to get to your hotel, what would be checked when you entered the country. I was leaving nothing to chance. Well, except the flight, since I was going on a buddy pass, but even then I was determined to put the odds in my favor.

I studied everything I could get my hands on. My textbooks, other textbooks, kanji dictionaries, language review sites, and Japanese media (mostly movies since they’re easiest to get access too). I would listen for words or phrases I recognized to try to figure out what was going on. Not a great method for gauging your competency (especially when you leave the translation on), but I found I was able to understand more as time went on. So, something had to be improving.

The last month or so were a little hectic as all the snarls started rearing their head (mostly regarding the flight dates because of a Delta embargo), but finally things were laid to rest, I was packed, and all that mattered was getting on that plane.


You’ll Love the Way We Fly

I hate flying standby. Yes, it’s a lot cheaper, and yes, you can get first class, and yes, it works 80%!o(MISSING)f the time, but I still think worrying about getting on a plane will be the death of me. Thanks to my overly cautious nature, I convinced my family to wake up at 6 am the day of the flight and head to the airport. Check in, and security went fine and moved quickly. Although, I think I need to find a better way to move through airports. Even with one bag, I feel like an elephant moving through the airports, what small amount of smoothness I have vanishing like food around my friend Alex. It’s getting to be ridiculous.

Even with my… movement issues, I made it to the gate with plenty of time (2 hours) to spare. In fact, it would be about another 30 minutes before the employees who were working the check-in desk would show up. In the meantime, I settled into a chair with my bags gathered around me and delved into the 13 ½ Lives of Capt. Bluebear (life 2 if I remember correctly).

Finally, the check-ins began and I rushed the counter. The lady smiled as she typed on the keyboard and proudly proclaimed that I would be getting on in first. The gamble paid off. Eventually, the plane began boarding, my name was called, and I found myself in seat 12F next to a Japanese woman who spent most of the flight in blissful unconsciousness.

I, personally, have difficulty sleeping on planes. So, between meals, I alternated between trying to force myself to sleep, playing games on the little video screen (like the world's easiest Galaga clone), and reading the continuing adventures of Capt. Bluebear (thank you, Alex). During meals, I was in heaven. Dinner (at about noon GA time) consisted of chicken, spinach, soup, salad, sushi, rice pilaf, and fruit. Although the main course wasn’t great, the soup and sushi were fantastic. The midflight snack was a “deli platter” consisting of duck, salmon, and a little wedge of cheese. It was, without a doubt, the best thing I ate on the plane. Went wonderfully with my coke and rum. Lunch (about noon Japan time) was beef tips and rice. Again, quite tasty, but not as good as the midflight snack.

After lunch, it was time to leave the plane. Suddenly, a massive wave of apprehension hit me. One thought kept running through my head: “What have I done?”


Culture Shock

Stepping through the airport, I was quickly formulating a plan. I was headed to customs and had no idea where to go, what to do, or how to do it. I figure my best hope was to find someone else American who looked like they had done this before and do what they did. Thankfully, the right Americans fell into my lap when their bags nearly fell on me.

They were an older couple, and for the most part seemed oblivious to my presence, but their conversations were very helpful in getting me through immigration. I walked up to my booth, handed them my passport, gave them my fingerprints and photos (you know, in case I commit a crime), and walked right on to customs. I managed to find the same couple in the bustle and stepped into the line next to them. I made it through customs without even a bag check (the customs lady asked if I understood Japanese; my response: “Not well enough.”).

As I and my two bags bumbled towards the arrival lobby, I made a list of things I needed to do. #1: ticket for the limo bus. #2: suica (I kept calling it squica) card. #3: cell phone. I finally stepped out into the arrival lobby and shut down. It finally hit me that I knew where NOTHING was, and I started to feel the pressure. The easiest thing to locate was the airport limo bus (the transportation to my hotel). So, I went to one of the ticket counters there first. The lady smiled at me pleasantly and greeted me. I went straight ahead in English (even though I swore I wouldn’t be THAT tourist), and she spoke it wonderfully. I got my ticket for the bus, as well as the location of Softbank and Japan Rail, my next two stops.

Not noticing the bus ticket had a time (10 minutes away), I headed downstairs to the train station. That exact same “What did I do?” feeling hit once I made it into the station. Seemed there was more than one train company running that station, and I wasn’t seeing JR right away. That was when the police decided I looked like someone worth questioning. They asked for my passport and where I was from, and, after discussing about how to translate “Austin” into katakana, they wrote me down on a list that I’m sure was the “confused foreigners who probably have no place in Japan” list. I asked again where Softbank was, having sighted the JR vending machines during the conversation, and they said one level up (the lady at the ticket counter had said the same thing, but I originally couldn’t find it).

Once the police were finished with me, I headed over to the JR vending machine and stopped dead. So many kanji, and my overloaded brain wasn’t even trying to translate. I must have had a frightened look on my face because one of the assistants came up and asked “Daijoubu?” (Are you OK?). I kind of shook my head, and she directed me towards the counter to the left, where I managed to speak with an assistant and get my Suica card.


Stupid Gaijin

After some wanderings, I managed to locate the Softbank counter and told them I wanted to rent a phone. They explained their plans and said it would be about 500 yen per day, plus calls. Trying to run the math in my head, I came to a nice round $600 (60,000 yen) for 4 months. It was a lot of money, but I needed the phone and could only get it at the airport. However, when I revealed that I was staying for 4 months, they decided that a pre-paid plan would probably work better for me in the long run ($125 for the phone, plus calls). I said that sound great, even though it would take an hour for me to get the phone initialized. She explained they only had one phone (gold), but suggested that I could get a different color by heading to their location on the fourth floor. I said that sounded great and lugged my bag up three flights of escalators to get to the store.

Unfortunately, the woman at the second Softbank location spoke considerably less English, and I was still too much in shell shock for my Japanese to work well. I finally got across that I wanted to get a prepaid phone instead of just a rental, and she said the same as downstairs, “It’ll be an hour.” I said that was fine and then did something stupid. I walked away from the counter, thinking that if I came back in an hour I’d be ready to go.

I lugged my bags back down the escalator and headed for where I had seen a sign proclaiming, “internet,” in hopes of contacting my parents. However, I saw that it was a series of computers already connected to the internet, and not a place to jack in, which turned me off on it. As expected, the wi-fi in Narita was also pay.

It was at this time that I checked my bus ticked, seeing the 1:45 time on there which had slipped away long ago. So, I walked up to the counter and explained what had happened, and the ticket lady happily gave me a later time, one set after my hour at Softbank was up.

Once the hour passed, I made my way back to Softbank, and explained to the lady that it had been an hour since she told me to wait. She looked at me with a look of confusion and irritation. Soon, it became clear that I wasn’t understand what was going on, and she called over one of her co-workers. She explained the situation to him, giving the international sign for “this guy doesn’t get it” (hitting herself on the head with the fat part of her hand), and he finally explained that I needed to pay for the phone first, then wait the hour. Whoops.

Between the three of us, we managed to get me set up with a nice red pre-paid phone. Of course, I missed my bus again, but it was a small price to pay to get the phone set up. With my phone resting comfortably in my pocket, I went back to the counter and changed my time again. Then, waited for the bus to arrive and take me to the Tokyo City Air Terminal.


Treading Water

The bus ride was surprisingly quiet, but a wonderful change from Narita. I finally started to feel like I could survive here as I rode to the TCAT. I was shocked to see how many hotels were on the highway between Narita and Tokyo, most of them elaborately decorated. One of my favorites were the Hotel Rainbow, which was painted like cubes of different colors. I also caught a glimpse of Tokyo Disneyland as I entered the city.

Before I went over, Dr. Ahearn warned me that Tokyo was massive. Course, I knew this from travel shows and movies, but you can’t really begin to understand it until see it. In comparison to Tokyo, calling Atlanta a big city is like calling a pond an ocean. It’s that big.

Thankfully, all I needed to do was sit quietly in my seat until I reached the TCAT. Once there, I walked to the other side of the building where the taxis sat waiting. I hopped into the nearest one and passed him the index card with the address of the hotel on it and explained, “Ryogoku no eki no soba ni” (It’s near the Ryogoku station), but he already knew where it was.

He drove me to the airport and I paid him the fee and waked into my hotel. I got my room without any surprises and, after contacting my family, fell asleep for the night, the neon sign of the Ryogoku River hotel beaming in under the curtains. Tomorrow, I was headed for Akihabara.

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Photos

Night time Hotel View
The view from my hotel at night.

Comments

[Kevin Mitchell]

Deja vu
Matt, That's exactly were I was in July, 1985 embarking on my solo transition in the US military Dental Corps to Seoul, Korea. Lost in another world without a clue! But I survived, as you will, and came to enjoy the experience of another country's hospitality and unique experiences. Can't wait to see you in June!