Departure
It’s Thursday night and I’m sitting on my bed, fighting the urge to sleep. I leave first thing in the morning, and my bags have been packed since Tuesday. After consulting with some colleagues who have made the 13hr journey before, I determine that the best strategy is to thoroughly exhaust myself so as to fall asleep easily once I’m in the air. It helps you get acclimated to the destination time — my 11:30AM flight equates to 1:30AM in Japan.
I don’t make it. Around 4AM I give up and catch a few hours. My brother brings me to the airport – we talk about his daughter, my first niece, just born yesterday – I thank him for making the time to send me off. I think about all the toys I plan to buy her in Japan. He snaps my picture and gives me a hug before I go. See you for Thanksgiving.
I figured that I could catch the rest of my 8 hours on the plane — which kind of works, but my excitement keeps me up through most of the flight. I pass the time with my fellow Japan-bound neighbors – they are visiting the country for their honeymoon and share a few cool places they plan to visit, which I make sure to write down. I mention I’m going for a 3 month work assignment and they immediately ask me if my company is hiring. Turns out this program will be great for recruiting after all.
Despite the length, the flight passes by quickly. I touch down in Tokyo and am ushered through customs, a surprisingly painless process, and move towards the connecting flights. The airport is busy, yet remarkably organized, but noticeably humid. It is mid-typhoon season here, and I immediately appreciate how much I’ve taken for granted American air conditioning. I stop for a quick breakfast of salmon ongiri before stepping onto the shuttle that brings me to one of the smallest planes I’ve ever been on. The flight to Nagoya is quick, but noisy. I watch the landscapes of forest, mountain, and sea beneath me. I could get used to this view.
Arrival in Nagoya
Imai-san waits for me outside of the airport gates. He immediately points out all of my luggage — I apologize and explain that I pack like an American, and we laugh. The train ride from the airport is smooth, and I stare out the window as we pass by beautiful architecture and residential areas. We talk about his former travels in the US – San Francisco, New Orleans, Chicago, etc, – turns out he’s seen more cities than I have!
He walks me through Kanayama station and we arrive at the hotel. We agree to meet on Monday morning before I go to my permanent residence – the Momozono dormitory. I thank him before saying goodbye, and take a look around. The hotel room is small, and it takes me a good 10 minutes before I figure out how to turn the lights on – eventually I realize the room key doubles as a light switch. Go figure!
I’m tired, but it is still early evening, and I decide to explore the surrounding area. I stumble upon a 3-story mall outside of Kanayama station, Asunal Kanayama, filled with delicious smells, inviting restaurants, and interesting shops.
At this point, I’m starving. The choices seem endless, and I’m grateful for the restaurant windows that show you exactly what your menu options look like. As someone with very minimal Japanese skills and limited internet connection, I appreciate them doing the research for me.
I settle on Kobe Motomachi Doria, pictured above. I hadn’t heard of doria before, a Japanese rice casserole dish inspired by western flavors, but have come to learn that it is absolutely delicious. I communicate a little awkwardly with the restaurant server, but the picture menu helps me order well enough. She brings out a bubbling cauldron of rice, creamy cheese sauce, chicken, parmesan, and egg — I have to pick my jaw up from the floor.
The pot has a lit candle underneath to keep it hot. I am so hungry that I don’t even notice I’m eating it incorrectly until about halfway through the meal. They serve it with a little white bowl, intended for patrons to scoop out tiny servings into the bowl, and eat from there. Instead, I was eating it like a barbarian, straight out of the hotpot. I make a mental note not to make the same mistake next time.
Paying is easy as the check was left on the table with the meal. You bring it to the register when you’re ready. Tipping is not expected, but I do give an enthusiastic “Gochisousama-deshita!” instead.
It is late now, and I walk back to the hotel slowly, passing by arcades, pachinko buildings, and a green-haired street performer with a light-up yo-yo. I think about my plans for tomorrow, and what to wear to the office on Monday, hoping my clothes are not too wrinkled from the flight.
– Fil
Phrase of the Day:
お会計お願いします (O kaikei onegaishimasu)
Translation: Check, please!
Fil You In 