Stage 1 - Enter the Rising Sun

So have you ever had that feeling like you have landed on Mars and can’t remember how you got there to save your life? Then you start to wonder when you’re going to wake up from this dream and pinch yourself a couple of times to try to force God’s hand? Yeah. I’m familiar with it. Except in my case, there was no waking up. I was five-thousand miles out of my element and two hours into an eleven-month stint of pure delirium. If you had asked me how I got there, I probably would have given you a rather stupefied stare that would have landed both of us in an awkward silence. That is to say, after filling out countless papers and completing an immeasurable volume of tests, I found myself on a journey of experience that was never to be rivaled in subsequent years.

Where was I, you ask? Well, some call it the Orient, but that has, in recent decades, become repugnant. The more birdbrained of us will still try to convince you that it is actually China, but that would be an even worse sentence of scrutiny to those who live there. Nevertheless, I was in neither of these arguably glamorous locales. I was on a charter bus, sitting next to a new-found coterie of friends. Still larger so, we were hustling down a highway in a country that had yet to be prepared for our rampage. The city was Tokyo, the date was September ninth, two thousand and eight and for those of you that are beginning to argue my geographical abilities, that would place us in the island-country of Japan. Don’t be confused by my bickering. Although perhaps once thought of as part of the Orient, Japan is not owned by or is the owner of China, Korea, Taiwan or Alaska. But I digress. If you can’t wikipedia the location and politics to prove me right then I beg of you to fold over this leaf and pass it to someone who could, for it is extraordinarily offensive for a Japanese person to be called Chinese.
Let me bring you back to that bus. It was a luxury liner after the ten-hour United flight that brought us here and robbed us of an entire day. Some of us had slept and some had used the time wisely, but whatever level of lethargy each of us had, our enjoyment of the city and its lights was not hindered in the least. Around each turn we would lean over and attempt to snap a precious photograph of the night lights of Tokyo as if we were never to see them again. We were like children - hyper, sugar-filled and entering the happiest place on earth for the first time in our callow lives. Our new mother and Sensei ogled at our enthusiasm and informed us that, of the thirty-plus years she had been hosting students, we were the first group to stay awake for that three hour bus ride out of the airport. Were we proud of that? Of course we were! We were on a mission to prove ourselves. We were better non-native speakers. We could study harder and get better grade points. At the end of it all, we were better foreigners than any that came before us!
Looking back on it now, it only lasted an instant. I was lucky enough to make three new friends with that bus ride, one of which still lives very close to me when we are both stateside. With our suitcases creating a backup worthy of a rush-hour Sig-alert on the 405, we finally found our temporary rooms. I can’t recall the hotel name anymore, but we were being put up in the sub-city of Takadanobaba. It was close to school and easy for us to get around the city from the train station across the rotary. Perhaps most importantly, there was a Shakey’s just up the street and that was the setting for the first meal scene.
Bring in the pizza! Slather on the cheese and get me some of that juicy corn to put on top! Wait. Corn? Who puts corn on pizza? Is that broccoli? Oh heck no! Not that I was that hungry after almost eighteen hours of constant travel, but as I sat staring at my broccoli and corn pizza I felt my appetite melting away. This sensitivity was only made worse by the smell of all-you-can-drink beer passing in front of my plate every couple of moments and the loud Belgian man sitting across from me. That’s right. I remember him now. The black sheep of our new found family. When asked to give introductions, his came with a raised beer and was followed by the displeasing crash of his glass on the table for effect. Luckily he turned out to be a pretty nice guy, but our first impression left a rather unpleasant taste in the back of our throats. I wonder where he is now?
Alas, our first day had been a success! A whirlwind of tours, instructions and more walking than even my brand-new asics could handle took hold for the next three days. All that hard studying I had completed before setting this ship asail was tossed overboard. The lights of the city seemed to rob me of my ability to speak the language I had worked so hard on learning as our Sensei lectured us on customs, pleasantries and deadlines. I was on overload. I remember touring Waseda, the University we were all enrolled in, and walking around the business sector of Shinjuku. I was grateful for each building we entered, as the summers in Tokyo are as hot and humid as molasses is slow in wintertime. We learned how to take the train, and by the end of it, we were dismissed to our finalized living arrangements.
It was those first three days that seemed to singe the ends of my nerves the most. I had, after all, just moved to Tokyo to study at a foreign university for almost a year without so much as a second thought. What was I thinking? I was in college. I should have been saving money and trying to get out before my student loans became too unbearable to fulfill within a normal lifetime. No. I certainly was not thinking that. Try maybe something more along the lines of learning how to further my art education by pole-vaulting over the international date line and landing in a land still mysterious to many here in the United States. Maybe something pertaining to my ravenous taste for travel and adventure? Whatever it was, I had just begun a journey into the land of the rising sun. It was an experience I shall soon not forget, and it fuels my muse with more material than she knows what to do with.