I’m writing this entry knowing that it won’t be published for at least another week. Here in Sakie’s apartment in Akita City there is no Wi-Fi for me to connect to, and using her Japanese keyboard to write anything at all has proven far to frustrating a task to partake.
To say I started this grand adventure, my new life, on a rough note would be an understatement. From the moment I woke up the morning of the 25th thing began rolling downhill. Still hung-over from my send-off party the night before (I said I wasn’t going to drink, why do I even bother?) I stumbled out of bed and quickly brushed my teeth, took my meds, and hopped into my dress slacks and white button down shirt. Right about that time I realized it was 0 degrees in Akita, and these thin polyester pants were not going to cut the mustard. Having no time for a plan B (I needed these dress clothes for the AIU opening ceremony) I threw all 3 of my bags over my shoulder and ran downstairs.
One thing I had not been expecting was my dad waiting for me in the living room. This guy is a freakin wild card. I woke up 3 hours before my flight so I can ride the max to the airport and hopefully arrive with 2 hours to deal with all the things that go wrong at the airport, but here is dad waiting and eager to give me a ride. Many would say this is a good thing, a ride to the airport instead of public transportation, but from my perspective, I had steeled myself for the crazies and nutzos on the train, and not having to go through with it left me with a feeling of awkwardness and tension, like going to the hospital and waiting for a shot that will never come.
The ride to the airport was pleasant enough, but arriving at the airport I realized I didn’t remember what airline would take me to Vancouver B.C. for my connecting flight to Tokyo. Reaching for my flight itinerary…nothing. I had forgotten my itinerary at home. If one could ever see the very point in which their day took a downward turn, that was what I had just observed, my day flipping over on it’s belly, giving up the ghost, because it knows its all uphill from here.
One hour of asking around and flight checking later, I found that my name was registered at Air Canada (go figure). My relief was short lived however, as although my name was registered there, they found no ticket reservation. If my psyche had a gauge, the mercury would have just dropped out the bottom. I decided it was time to start making some phone calls (from the payphone of course, my mother wanted to use my cell while I’m in Japan, so it was sitting in my room). Taking a detour into the men’s room to make sure I didn’t look like the walking dead, which I did, turned out to be a good move, because as soon as I finished washing my face, I was paged over the loudspeaker, they had found my reservation, and are waiting for me at the front desk.
For the sake of length, let me jump ahead about 2 hours and 15,000 feet. Because this is where I found out that my hangover was a little bit more then it appeared to be. What started out as a nagging main in my head turned into a full-blown ear infection at altitude. I’d say it was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life, but that would have only been valid for an hour before I had to do it all over again after transferring to the flight that would take me to Tokyo.
My arrival in my new home deserves it’s own entry, so I think with my travel coming to an end, so should this journal entry. I hope you all understand why there are no photos to go along with, as I was to busy with the chainsaw boring into my skull to take snapshots. From here on out, however, I’ll begin taking photos, and as soon as I can find a clear, flat spot, I will be supplementing these journal entries with audio blogs that you can hear at www.jonandabe.com, so stay tuned for more! I’m sure the next 9 months will be a lot more positive then the last 48 hours ;)