Countdown to Fukuoka

The plane to Vancouver.

For the last several weeks I've been living in terms of how long it would be until I came to Japan. Until I came to see the nation I'd dreamed of visiting for years. A nation which lives and breathes in its own way, with a unique pulse, with big cities feeling like all big cities do anywhere in the world, yet with some sort of different feeling. A nation in which all my senses tell me this is just another country--yet a nation which tells me "this is not the same." I have been waiting, counting down, until I came to see this.

Until I came to see Ayumi.

The massive 747-400
that took me to Seoul.
Double decker!

Through twenty four hours of travel from Portland to Vancouver, from Vancouver to Seoul, and from Seoul to Fukuoka international, a fog overtook my mind. I can't sleep on planes, and so I took the chance to finally dig into 1Q84. For anyone who's read the book you will know that its plot surely did not help the fog sneaking in through my eyes, my ears, seeping into the cracks of my brain.

I also took the chance to watch Grand Budapest Hotel (good) and, right after that, I tried watching The Amazing Spiderman 2 (don't watch this after a good movie because you'll be acutely aware of just how bad it is).

Let's play "Spot the hipster." No matter
what, you lose.

My flight from Vancouver to Seoul was delayed by over an hour. With what was originally a forty-minute transfer in Seoul, I was worried I'd miss my plane. Luckily, we caught a proper tailwind that helped me along, carrying me along my way with caring hands. I barely made the transfer, and was spirited away to my final destination, just over an hour more away.

Consciousness seemed a foreign idea to me.

When I landed, I could barely make my way through the airport. Yet everywhere was painted the letters and writings I'd been studying. And though I'd always known, I felt like I was coming to finally comprehend the authenticity of my education. But the feeling was dull, like touching a tatami mat with numb feet.

I went through customs in Japanese: the first of my tests. Though I was tired, I stumbled through it with reasonable efficacy.

I grabbed my bag.

I walked out the arrival-gate door. Fog sneaked behind my eyes as I looked around.

And when I saw Ayumi jump up from her seat and run towards me, the fog of travel, tiredness, and jet lag was blasted away by a gust of fresh air, in stark contrast to the humid atmosphere my lungs took in.

Suddenly, this all became real.

More to come as the adventure continues.