Crossing Bridges: Arriving in Japan
I took a deep breath and stepped off the airplane. I made my way through the gangway and walked into the airport. I looked around and took my surroundings in. My head was spinning. I was excited, nervous, sleep-deprived, and exhausted. But I had arrived. I was finally here.
Japan.
It was my first time overseas, my first time leaving America, and the furthest from home I'd ever been. I had come here alone to fulfill a longtime dream. So there I was, making my way through the airport, going through customs and immigration (which was kind of terrifying). I used my textbook Japanese to get to the right train, and then I was on my way.
I had flown into Narita Airport, which is about an hour from downtown Tokyo by train. I sat on the train, looking out the window, and going back and forth between dozing off and admiring the scenery. It was surreal. It felt like a dream and at any moment, I could wake up and find myself back home. These were sights I had seen only on Google images, so maybe this was my subconscious processing that information. I had also only gotten a couple hours of sleep on a fourteen-hour flight, so that might have something to do with the out-of-body feeling I had. The excitement did not settle in until the train neared Tokyo.
The lush green hills and trees slowly gave way to rice patties. The rice patties turned into suburban neighborhoods. On the horizon, skyscrapers touched the sky. The train descended into the earth, and the announcer said we were coming up on Tokyo Station. I messaged an American friend I was meeting, telling her (with a lot of exclamation points) that I was about to arrive. The train came to a stop, the doors opened, and I lugged my giant suitcase out of the train and into the station.
I rode the escalator up and my jaw dropped. Tokyo Station at first appeared to be like any other subway station - maybe a little bit cleaner than most. But up above the platforms was like a shopping mall. Shops and restaurants lined the walls. The floors, despite how many thousands of people tread over it each day, were shining. Luckily, I had met up with my friend and she knew how to get to the hotel, or I would've never been seen again. I would've spent the rest of eternity wandering around the station if she wasn't there to pull me in the right direction.
We hopped on a local train and talked about how my flight was and what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. It was only about three o'clock in the afternoon, so we had the rest of the evening to do stuff. We reached our stop and my friend helped me take my stuff off the train and up the stairs (the local stops don't really have the escalators. I'm sure there were elevators somewhere, but we didn't feel like looking). When we exited the train station, I got my first taste of Tokyo. In front of me was a busy street with little cars rushing to and fro. Up above me was an overpass running parallel to the street in front of me. We crossed the street and walked into a residential area. Our hotel was located just a block away from Hatagaya Station, right next to a ramen shop, across the street from a convenient store, down the street from a bookstore, and snuggled into a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect. I checked into the hotel and put my bags in my room. It was small, just a single bed, a small dresser, and a bathroom, but it was cozy.
No sooner had I put my bags down did my friend suggest going to Shibuya for the evening. Everyone knows of the famous crosswalks in Shibuya, so of course, I had to check that off the list.
Off we went again, retracing our steps and hopping back onto a train. When we reached Shibuya, we were greeted by the statue of Hachiko, an Akita dog whose story of loyalty to his owner has garnered him worldwide recognition (if you don't know the story, look it up. It will make you cry). We said hello to Hachiko, petting his head as many tourists and locals do. Then we continued on. We crossed the diagonal crosswalk and went exploring. My friend had been there before so she knew mostly where to go. We went to a music store, got some souvenirs, and after dinner, we headed back to the hotel. The lack of sleep I got on the airplane was starting to catch up to me, and I was ready to just lie down and sleep. We said goodnight and went to our respective rooms. I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. I looked out my window. Off in the distance, I could see an illuminated Tokyo Tower.
I was in Japan. I let that feeling sink in as I laid back and tucked myself in. I quickly drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face. I couldn't wait until tomorrow.
Japan.
It was my first time overseas, my first time leaving America, and the furthest from home I'd ever been. I had come here alone to fulfill a longtime dream. So there I was, making my way through the airport, going through customs and immigration (which was kind of terrifying). I used my textbook Japanese to get to the right train, and then I was on my way.
I had flown into Narita Airport, which is about an hour from downtown Tokyo by train. I sat on the train, looking out the window, and going back and forth between dozing off and admiring the scenery. It was surreal. It felt like a dream and at any moment, I could wake up and find myself back home. These were sights I had seen only on Google images, so maybe this was my subconscious processing that information. I had also only gotten a couple hours of sleep on a fourteen-hour flight, so that might have something to do with the out-of-body feeling I had. The excitement did not settle in until the train neared Tokyo.
The lush green hills and trees slowly gave way to rice patties. The rice patties turned into suburban neighborhoods. On the horizon, skyscrapers touched the sky. The train descended into the earth, and the announcer said we were coming up on Tokyo Station. I messaged an American friend I was meeting, telling her (with a lot of exclamation points) that I was about to arrive. The train came to a stop, the doors opened, and I lugged my giant suitcase out of the train and into the station.
I rode the escalator up and my jaw dropped. Tokyo Station at first appeared to be like any other subway station - maybe a little bit cleaner than most. But up above the platforms was like a shopping mall. Shops and restaurants lined the walls. The floors, despite how many thousands of people tread over it each day, were shining. Luckily, I had met up with my friend and she knew how to get to the hotel, or I would've never been seen again. I would've spent the rest of eternity wandering around the station if she wasn't there to pull me in the right direction.
We hopped on a local train and talked about how my flight was and what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. It was only about three o'clock in the afternoon, so we had the rest of the evening to do stuff. We reached our stop and my friend helped me take my stuff off the train and up the stairs (the local stops don't really have the escalators. I'm sure there were elevators somewhere, but we didn't feel like looking). When we exited the train station, I got my first taste of Tokyo. In front of me was a busy street with little cars rushing to and fro. Up above me was an overpass running parallel to the street in front of me. We crossed the street and walked into a residential area. Our hotel was located just a block away from Hatagaya Station, right next to a ramen shop, across the street from a convenient store, down the street from a bookstore, and snuggled into a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect. I checked into the hotel and put my bags in my room. It was small, just a single bed, a small dresser, and a bathroom, but it was cozy.
No sooner had I put my bags down did my friend suggest going to Shibuya for the evening. Everyone knows of the famous crosswalks in Shibuya, so of course, I had to check that off the list.
I was in Japan. I let that feeling sink in as I laid back and tucked myself in. I quickly drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face. I couldn't wait until tomorrow.
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