And that was Tokyo

So we came out of the airport in yet another huge line, and though I was exhausted dragging my previously mentioned 50-pound bags, I was like whoa. There was a huge glass-and-metal awning, and boxy and Japanese cars driving all around. The ground said とまれ in front of intersections instead of Stop, and, in the surreality of that moment, I wondered why it didn't instead say とまれていただきませんか which would have been more polite, and funnier because instead of taking up 10 feet in front of the intersection, it would've had to take up like 40 feet. *Chuckle* And that is probably the reason they don't write it longer and more polite.

A very petite Japanese girl ended up helping me with my bags because, apparently, most everyone else was smart enough to get wheeled luggage. Then there was an hour bus ride to our hotel. The surreality continued, from the point where I saw that the ground spoke Japanese until... well, it hasn't really stopped. Looking out from the bus windows, everything looked pretty American. It was like a big American city... except that there were a lot more Japanese cars and words on buildings. I'm convinced that Japan is like the rest of the world, except that it's a little more Japanese.

I'm suddenly reminded of the T-shirt Charity found in her Japanese mall: "Water! It's very important."

Then we arrived at our luxury hotel in the very heart of one of the most expensive cities in the world: the Keio Plaza Hotel in Shinjuku Ward, Tokyo. So, here is my first "real" picture of Tokyo.

I must've been thinking, "Oh, wow, so there IS trash in Tokyo; how novel. Snap."

I took that picture on my second day in Tokyo. On the first night, I did good by asking a random Japanese person on the street for directions. I didn't understand the directions, but I had the guts to ask. But, the not understanding, and my (perceived) sloppy "might've been just as good off without having studied 3 years of Japanese" performance in a noodle shop close to the hotel gave me something very worrisome to sleep on. I found myself thinking that if I didn't hit the ground running, I'd never get anywhere, and I decided that, in spite of the fact that I didn't have any Japanese yen on me, and the only places I knew to exchange my US dollars for yen weren't open until after the official events of the next day began, I would buy a ticket on the notoriously confusing Tokyo subway and make sure I got to Mass to fulfill my Sunday obligation, without missing any of the mandatory JET events. I also made this plan knowing that it was Monday in Tokyo; the Mass I was planning to attend would be held on Sunday, as marked from Central time in Kansas... and it was the best I could do. Haha, any of you other Catholics know what if there's any official line the Church takes on such a situation? Yeah, I'm guessing there's not...

So, that picture was taken soon after I left the Keio Hotel for the train station. Fortunately, I passed some fellow ALT Brits and Australians who had apparently been up all night... drinking, I assume, though they didn't appear at all trashed. We noticed each other, and it was like 5 in the morning, just a weird enough time to be doing anything (even considering we were still in Tokyo) that I guess we figured it was worth at least a brief discussion. I didn't hide my plans, and one British guy decided the easiest thing for me to do would be to borrow a thousand yen (a little less than $10 bucks US) from him. I hesitated at first, but not very strongly, and he insisted, so I promised to pay him back, after getting my money exchanged later. I've forgotten his name, but he still has my massive thanks. (And I did pay him back, after exchanging my yen later.)

So, I had my money, and I knew where I was going and where I'd get off, but there was the small matter of getting the right ticket from the right place to the right place within the right amount of time, and then doing it again, backwards, after Mass, before the ceremonies started... all in Japanese. And it turns out that there are 2 train stations sitting at, basically, right angles to each other, with basically the same name, but do not really share trains. After figuring this out, and getting to the right train line, I stared, stupidly, at the ticket machine for a good few minutes, not as much trying to understand the Japanese as I was building up the courage to ask one of the rushing Tokyo-ites to help a dumb foreigner. But, after a few minutes, I pick a random guy, a college student, I'd say, and he ends up telling his friends to wait for him, leading me by the hand through the whole thing, up to my train's platform.

His name was Shiga.. or Shigo..., but definitely not Shingo... because that means "traffic light" in Japanese, and I tried to make a joke (in Japanese) about it, and he didn't get it... or it wasn't funny. We had a good conversation, even to the extent of talking about New Orleans jazz.... I think. Anyway, I was remembering to use my camera at this point, so here are pictures of the subway station and from on the train.

Of course, the time is still wrong. This was early in the morning, so I imagine the cars would be packed later in the day. I made it to my destination, and was feeling pretty good; at least I had made the effort when it seemed like the church was vacant. And then I realized that Mass was in a building across the street, and I attended my first Japanese Mass. Yea! Here's the best photographic proof I have.

And after that, after Shigo's lessons, it was easier than it had been the first time to do the whole process backwards, so, with only a little help from kind, nearby Japanese, I made it back to the hotel in good shape, with enough time for breakfast before the ceremonies started, feeling like I could do anything after finding the guts to take on the Tokyo subway on my second day ever overseas.

On that note, let me just say that I could be a bad, bad man, and that the whole world should be thanking me, because if I can do that, and I weren't doing good here in Japan, I'd probably be doing baaad somewhere else. End of ego trip.

The rest of my time in Tokyo was just sleeping in as late as I could and trying to get to know the other JETs, specifically those in my same prefecture, Nagasaki-ken--when I say prefecture, it's the same as "ken," and the term is analogous to the designation of a state in the US--although I did take time for a few touristy snapshots and karaoke with friends who happened to be in the area.

Here's the glared view from the, maybe, 74th floor of the hotel.

And here's one of me and my Kanagawa homies after my first (brief) night at the karaoke bar. Jordan was there too, so I guess that he was taking the picture? All of my friends were very understanding of the fact that I was a little sick at the time. Apparently a-dozen-or-so-hour-time-zone-jet-lag after days with very little sleep is not especially good for one's body.

And, after the night of karaoke, I woke up to a schedule of leaving for Nagasaki. For many reasons, especially my success at the train stations, I wasn't in a hurry to leave, but I knew that the real action was in Nagasaki. And that was Tokyo. I really enjoyed it.