Departure for and Arrival in Japan: Jan. 8-9

Introduction:

I am studying abroad again in Japan for a semester at the Japan Center for Michigan Universities in Hikone, Japan. Although my last attempt at blogging didn't last very long, I will try again.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014 

It's 9:21 am. I'm in the Pittsburgh Airport waiting for my 10am flight to Detroit. I was supposed to leave on Sunday, but because of the terrible snowstorms in the north, both flights to Detroit were too delayed for me to make my connection to Nagoya, Japan. So the flight agent rescheduled my flight for Wednesday. The flight agent said there were no hotels in Detroit, so it was better to wait for another day than go to Detroit and take my chances.

There's a 17-minute delay, but the plane is on the way.

Why don’t airports have public wifi?

I’m going to have missed nearly the whole first week, which includes orientations, placement test, tours, and classes. However, I think I will take advantage of my missed class to cultivate a relationship with the professor via email, since it’s an online class anyway. I’m reading through the first lesson’s powerpoint and making a list of questions. Too bad I can’t respond to emails now, since the professor sent one out asking for a reply.

~4:00pm, Detroit Airport (which does have free wifi, and is way more international and much, much bigger than Pittsburgh)

My flight was supposed to leave at 3:30pm. Everyone is on the plane and ready to take off, but they discovered a wing problem. I can barely hear the intercom since the plane is so loud.

~5pm
The wing problem has been resolved and now we're moving to takeoff.

~8:30pm, Thursday, January 9, 2014, Nagoya, Japan
The plane has landed. The flight was fairly pleasant; I was sitting in the window seat, but fortunately the young couple next to me was very friendly. However, the touchscreen provided for entertainment was annoyingly insensitive, making it useless for games and frustrating for everything else.

~9pm
I moved through Immigration and Customs with no problems, exchanged dollars for yen with minimal difficulty, and asked for directions to Hikone at the Information Desk.

~1am
I'm exhausted. Besides the fact that I've been up since 7am Eastern Standard Time, and now it's 11am EST the next day (therefore 16 hours later), I changed trains 3 times on the 2.5 hour commute from NGO airport to Hikone. While I was on the train to Maibara (the Shinkansen?), I heard the woman behind me sniffling a lot. I happened to glance behind me, and I caught her eyes in an expression of desperate upsetness. That image stays in my mind: face tilted up, cheeks red, eyes wet as they meet mine in her moment of vulnerability. I wanted to offer her a tissue, but I didn't want to impose on her misery again. She composed herself after that.

After the train, I rode in a taxi. I was somewhat familiar with the trains from my previous study abroad, but the taxi made me nervous.

Hikone Station has many taxis; I think I saw more than 10. It's probably because this area doesn't have any buses. I nervously sidled up to a taxi that pulled up to the curb and had it's back door open. I made eye contact with the driver, and he closed the door and got out to open the trunk and put my suitcase inside. I waited next to the door until he went back to the driver's seat and pulled a lever to open it. I climbed into the backseat and told him I wanted to go to "Michigan Sentaa." It was about a 10-minute ride. I tried to memorize every sign and landmark I passed so that I would remember how to get back later. Once we arrived, I paid the taxi driver in cash, got out, and took my suitcase. Since it was midnight, the Center was completely dark. I walked up to the front door, where I saw a sign the student coordinator had left for me, with a phone number to call. The taxi drove away.

I tried to use my American phone to call the number, but it flashed, "No Service"--no help at all. I realized that I had assumed that since my phone was the same brand (Pantech) as before, it would work in Japan. Now it seemed that my model was incompatible with the Japanese networks. I took out my Japanese phone, but I hadn't charged it enough, so it had no battery. I couldn't get in the building. It was cold and windy and dark. I had no phone. I started to panic. "The side door!" I thought. I had a code. If I could get in, at least I had a chance. I left my suitcase at the front--no one was around to take it anyway--and wandered around the building until I found a door that looked promising. However, the lock refused to open. Depressed, I went back to the front of the building.

I was so close, yet without a phone, I couldn't get in! "I can't give up now," I told myself. I looked up, back towards the road, and saw the glowing building of Hotel RIDE nearby, a mere 5-minute walk away. A hotel must have a phone. I grabbed my suitcase and walked to the hotel. There was a surprising amount of traffic considering it was late on a weekday.

Inside the hotel, I went to the front desk, but there was no one there, although the closed glass door leading to the office was lit from the inside. I looked around, but saw nothing helpful. Next to the desk, there was what seemed to be a ticket machine to pay for rooms, which I thought was unusual. On the counter at the front desk was a phone with a label in Japanese: "Press 9 for Front Desk." I picked up the phone, pressed 9, and waited. A woman in the office picked up; I could hear her real voice through the door as she spoke on the phone. My Japanese was in full rust mode as I attempted to explain my predicament. Eventually the lady came out of the office to talk to me. She tested the phone I was using, but said that it couldn't perform outside calls. "If you buy a room, you can make calls from there," she told me. I told her that I just needed to call my supervisor, and I would be fine. I said that I had a Japanese prepaid phone that I might be able to use if I could charge it. She asked me if it would be quick. "Yes," I said. She directed me to the outlet where the vending machine was plugged in. My phone recovered enough charge, but when I tried to call, an automated voice told me that my account was empty: I had no money to make a call with.

The woman had disappeared, so I called with the phone at the front desk. A man answered. Disconcerted, I said, "I still need a phone," unable to explain it all over again. The woman and the man (who I assume is the owner) both came out to talk to me. I explained the problem to them. The owner didn't understand at first, but once the lady explained it to him, he left and returned with his personal cell phone. I successfully made the call. I thanked the owner and lady profusely. They asked where I was going, and I said that I was going to the Michigan Center. "Oh, that's close!" they exclaimed. Yes, I thought, which is why I wanted a phone and not a room.

I left the hotel and went back to the Center, where the student coordinator was waiting for me. He let me in and took me to my room, startling my roommate. After a brief intro, he left. My roommate and I talked briefly, then she went back to sleep, and I made my bed and organized my stuff. Finally, I went to sleep. I had a busy day ahead.