Japan: Part I

Shinjuku, Tokyo.

The next day we woke up refreshed. Scratch that. Kelly woke up refreshed. I didn’t wake up because I didn’t sleep. I simply ceased to stare at the ceiling. Planes have a way of reducing me mind to the rationality of child who swore that he heard something scuffling beneath his bed. Planes aren’t my thing.


That I ate a bunch of Dots and a Heath Bar right before bed probably played a significant role in it all, too.
Anyway, I did not die in the plane; nor did I lose my mind.

While the flight wasn’t entirely pleasant, and I wasn’t entirely relaxed, the 2 hours passed without any major issues. We boarded in Incheon amongst what seemed to be an entire battalion of American military guys with their camo bags. We found our seat in the middle row of seats. It wasn’t the ideal place and I felt on edge most of the way and more than a bit jumpy but that is what tends to happen when my rationality-barrier has been depleted by stuffiness and not enough sleep.

So, I kept my mind occupied the best that I could. After I released my armrest from the takeoff death grip I tried to focus on the TV. I watched a bit of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I don’t remember anything else because if I just sit back and watch things then my mind starts going to dark places. So, I spent about an hour and a half obsessively flipping through the music channels and heard California Girls by Katy Perry for what I think might have been the first time. I spent the last hour playing Hogs of War on my laptop and for that segment of time all was right with the world.

Narita International Airport, Japan

I get this odd sense of accomplished pride whenever I make it through immigration and set foot for the first time in a strange country. It seems like it wasn’t so long ago (and it really wasn’t) that I was awaiting the arrival of my first virgin passport. It was so empty, and it was so bland. Occasionally, while I have nothing to do, I will pull it out of my drawer in Korea and thumb through it. Obviously, every stamp is a memory and an adventure and all that clichéd but true stuff; but there is also a certain pride that goes along with it. I have a lot more of the world to see before I finally walk into my house in Shrewsbury but I have already seen places, met people, and had all these experiences that I never thought would actually happen a handful of years ago.

I changed 500,000 Won in Seoul and we began to blow through it immediately upon setting foot in Tokyo. Travel in Tokyo seems inordinately expensive when you currently live in a place that will take you across country for little more than 10,000 Won. Kelly, who had paid for and booked a hotel in the Shinjuku neighborhood of Tokyo, managed to get us aboard the airport limo that would drop us off in front of the Hotel Sunroute Shinjuku (or something like that). It cost us either 3,000 Yen each or for the two of us, I don’t really remember anymore, but either way 3,000 Yen has nothing in common with 3,000 Won. With Won, I tend to simplify and assume every 1000 is equal to about $1. The double conversions going on in my mind confused the hell out of me and I frankly have no idea how much anything actually cost. I think I spent $30 on paper in a gift shop.

Kelly and I have stayed in some phenomenally horrible hotels in the time that we have been together. There was the place in Hampton, NH that was maybe the size of a small dorm room with a crap bed and 1970’s faux wood paneling. There was the place in Lancaster, PA with the pool that “might be a bit short on chlorine” and was, in fact, totally green which made no difference to me because I jumped in anyway. So on and so forth.

The hotel in Shinjuku had a lobby. A lobby! It had a bunch of benches and sofas that sat around a fountain that glowed in the dim light. There were velvet ropes, luggage, elevators and a line of people in UNIFORMS behind a deep-dark wood counter. I never thought I would stay in anyplace with a genuine, matter of fact, lobby! The place also had a fancy restaurant / bar / café.

We didn’t do too much that first day except throw our bags on the floor and walk around.
Something I knew about Tokyo but failed to appreciate the truth of the fact is that Tokyo is huge. While Seoul is number two in the world as far as population, Tokyo comes in at number one by a pretty hefty margin.

The size is evident as soon as you set foot out the door. We walked around until the sun went down and noise and neon filled the night. Street crossings were like black and white exoduses and it took some work for Kelly and I not to get separated.

We stopped off at a dark little noodle house that was no bigger than my room with a couple of counters to sit at. The counter looked directly into the kitchen which was dark save for the flames of gas burners and the shadows of piles of fresh noodles that sat in a bowl next to a boiling pot. Metal containers held herbs, eggs and other ingredients.

We walked in pointing to photos on the wall and had already screwed up. Machines have already taken the jobs of waiters in Tokyo. The cook led us back into the night and pointed to a vending machine that sat beneath a sole light.

Kelly in Tokyo.

The machine had a few rows of photographs of various noodle dishes and the assorted sides they came with. So, with the guy standing there we inserted our money, hit a couple of buttons, took a seat at the counter at the kitchen and handed him our sheets of paper with our selections typed out.

A soba noodle dish with a savory pancake to boot for myself and an udon noodle dish with a bowl of what looked like vomit, but tasted amazing, for Kelly.

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Seoul: KHall Arrives

I spent a lot of the weekend a couple of weeks at Incheon Internation Airport. I turned up sometime around 5 with a rolling bag of clothes and electronic distractions and a backpack that held a smaller backpack that held my camera and lenses. It was like a really lame Matryoshka doll.


Whatever weak plan of action I stepped of the Cheongju - Incheon bus with involved checking into an airport hotel and ditching my bags. I was at the airport, meeting my girlfriend whom I have not seen in 7 months. The next day we would fly to Tokyo. I wanted to have a grand airport reunion and I didn’t want to be all hot and grimy from lugging around luggage for 3 hours or so before hand. I wanted to show off my new crappy prepubescent pubical-hair beard and slightly slimmer frame. I wanted her to come through immigration and see somebody who had adapted to life abroad. It’s hard to give the appearance of adaptation when you are pulling luggage, looking frazzled and ready to get the hell out.

KHall

Guess I should have actually made a hotel reservation.

On my own, I would have just squatted in the airport. I spent multiple days (not all at once) in Athens and about a solid day in Mexico City. But, Kelly was coming. Last time I saw her I was living off of a pretty low magazine wage and whatever I managed to scrape together with freelance work. I had decided that for the first time in my life, this was a no-expenses-spared sort of trip. It seems so long ago and another world away that I was ever so poor. It seemed so long ago and another world away since I had seen K Hall. I guess that was pretty much true.

In the end, I stood outside of immigration with my luggage sprawled on the floor around me. I waited as people came back home or stepped out to meet strangers holding signs. My favorite sign was taped to a pole: BOB SMITH: WALK STRAIGHT THROUGH THE DOORS TO THE BUS.

A bit earlier and further down the corridor I passed a man as he sobbed uncontrollably as his family looked on, not looking much better. I wondered how long he was leaving for or whether he was going to a hospital somewhere far away, or a funeral. I blocked it from my mind as I waited.

The most obvious difficulty in travel is the distance from loved ones. After a time it grows to be more than just a physical fact and a lesson in world geography. Time goes by and life continues on while we are gone; whether the place we are gone to is across the state or across the world. It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. It’s just different. It happens when you aren’t paying attention. There’s that hit of homesickness or that feeling of being so far away at the beginning of a trip but you adapt to it and you cope with it.

The person I was when I stepped through the same sliding doors I was waiting at now seems so different. I haven’t learned any massive life lessons and I haven’t had some huge philosophical growth, I just feel a little different. Growth through travel, I guess.

I have my own little world here. It’s temporary and the clock is always counting down on it, but it is an obvious truth. I have my friends here that bare little to no resemblance to my friends back at home. I have my habits, my little apartment that nobody from home had ever seen. I have this reality here that is so far removed from my reality in Shrewsbury, MA that my two lives don’t seem to really overlap. People at home, save regular phone conversations, stop being part of your day to day life.

That’s part of the reason why I was so nervous as I stood there waiting. It felt like that first date feeling in that battery acid seems to be pumping through your veins and that it feels nice and exciting but mostly you just want it to stop.

K Hall was the last person out of immigration. I was scared to see her. It seemed like it had been so long, despite talking regularly. Distance is hard. This trip had been a long time coming and I half expected that instead of actually stepping through the doors and into Korea (the one overlap in my past and present realities) she would vanish or at least be deported or something.

She wasn’t. She wheeled her red luggage around a crowd of people and over to me.

Sometimes you don’t realize how much you really miss your home until a piece of it drifts your way.



Anyway, we spent a night in the most expensive hotel we had ever stayed in together. It was an airport hotel that was 5 minutes from the airport. It was 5 minutes apparently if you sat on a plane going full speed and bailed after 5 minutes.

I tried to wow K Hall with my awesome knowledge of Korean formalities and greetings that starts with “hello” and basically ends with “thank you.” In my daydreams I imagined a gourmet dinner and hours and hours of conversation and stories. Reality wasn’t quite so dramatic but it was equally as nice. We watched The Office and America’s Funniest Home Videos in the hotel as Kelly fought the fatigue of traveling from Boston to NJ to Beijing to Korea while I ate a horrible cup of noodles with a toothbrush.



Things she brought me:

Dots

Everlasting Gobstoppers

Jujubees

Snyder’s Buffalo Sauce Pretzels

2 Heath Bars

A box of precooked bacon

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Update

Taking a brief break from vacation to update you all on the fact that I won't be updating for another week. 

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