First and foremost, thank you to the kind and most likely blissfully unaware sir/madam/future fellow employee whose internet I am currently "borrowing" until I can set mine up with J Com.
Secondly, thank you to all my friends and family who helped me survive the long 24 hour day I am wrapping up halfway across the world from where it began. Even though technically it is now tomorrow, and almost the next day. Lame. Soup. (Maybe it would be better if I refrain from using inside jokes on this blog, but basically this one's easy. I dropped Joshua's iPhone in a millimeter of soup two days ago at the Olive Garden. And Soup on my iPhone is too long, so when something's bad or confusing, I now just say "Soup"). So "soup" to my nerdy time-zone-aware self.
Thirdly, let's get day one's adventures down on paper so I can get some rest!
The day began with lots of calm nervousness. Hodgekins was wonderful at ushering me down the door (two 70 lb bags in tow), and soon I was on my way to JFK with a delightful final phone call from Lauren. Then, the worst part of my day began. I don't know what we're all focusing our attentions on right now, but once we pass health care reform and somehow pull ourselves out of this economic crisis... COULD SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THE AIRLINES FROM BEING THE BIGGEST SCAMMERS EVER?!?!?!?!?! Sweet beans on toast! If it requires letters and appearances in front of Congress like that lady talking about her cancer and crappy health care on CNN today, then crud, I will do it. I mean, is no one else noticing the fact that we as consumers are getting raped (sorry, but it's true) by U.S. airlines? Super lame. Souper soup.
I walked into JFK, told the Northwest/Delta idiots I was flying to Tokyo via Detroit, was ushered one direction, then to a line of machines that was customer-free (because they actually weren't working) then back to the original check-in. Do the fast and friendly computer check-in and wait patiently for oh, I don't know, the time it takes to bake a cake, for someone to come hand me my bag tags. Now let's review. I checked, double, triple, even quadruple-checked baggage allowances. I mean, what dope anymore would fly overseas for 9 months and not figure out what he's getting into? So I went online and much to my relief, found that your first two 50 lb. bags are free. And, with any ticket purchased prior to June 27, 2009, an overweight bag up to 70 lbs. is only a $50 "heavy bag" fee. However, the lovely "lady" behind the counter instantly hesitated and asked why my bags were overweight. Like anyone in their right mind would be crazy to pack more than 10 lbs to fly overseas for 9 months. I explained that I didn't mind paying the weight charge of $50 (since my employer will cover it) when the RUDE, irritable, hates-her-life, stereotypical woman from Brooklyn at the next counter HELPING SOMEONE ELSE proceeded to jump down my throat and claw out my vocal chords with a basilisk fang. She instantly chose to ream me out, rather than listen to what, in my humble opinion, was a very valid claim. Mind you, next time I will be printing out luggage regulations from the internet before I travel ANYWHERE. She informed me that it was $90 per bag domestic, $150 international, and that I was crazy, wrong, irrational, obnoxious, and could ask anyone else but they would all treat me the same and tell me the same thing. Rather than make a scene, much like a family with 2 small children was doing since Northwest denied them check-in to their flight to Minneapolis, I chose to visit another agent, who kindly helped me without treating me like the hair in the bottom of the drain. I explained I would pay the overage charges, or repack a third bag I had packed in the suitcase, whatever was cheapest and easiest. In the end, I paid $90 per bag, which is fine because, again, it will be reimbursed, but the lady was kind enough to supposedly give me the "domestic" charge because I happened to be flying through Detroit. And she didn't make me unpack the 3 lbs from the one suitcase that happened to be 73. I then asked if even though my ticket was bought in May 2009, if luggage regulations change before I leave in April 2010, I would still be permitted to carry what was PAID FOR IN FULL in May 2009. She informed me, no, I would be subject to whatever whimsy NWA/Delta feels is appropriate at the time. She, in fact, politely encouraged me to send my luggage FedEx because it's cheaper.
This, dear friends and readers, is why NWA/Delta will continue to remain on my No-Fly list. (I have no choice when my employer books me otherwise). I know, in fact, all U.S. airlines feel it more respectable to charge unsuspecting travelers arriving at the airport RIDICULOUS transportation fees, but it is, in fact, happening all over the U.S. Beware, and perhaps one of our elected leaders could take notice that our airlines are quickly going the way of the housing market.
Meanwhile, I'd like to point out how EXACTLY right I am. Please go to: http://www.nwa.com/travel/luggage/checked.html#freeluggage and scroll 7/8 of the way down the page. You'll notice there is a distinct table for international overage fees for both BEFORE June 27, 2009 and AFTER. Before says $50 for 51-70 pounds. Now, even this isn't correct and only applies to travel to Europe, there is also, only 1/4 of the way down the page, a link for baggage requirements that reads "Get baggage allowance information for tickets purchased prior to June 27, 2009". I have also pasted the link to this evidence here: http://www.nwa.com/features/baggagearchived/ Again, the heavy bag fee for the first two bags is $50. I'm just saying... NWA. YOU SUCK. I HAVE EVIDENCE. I'm calling you and getting my money back.
Luckily, though this nearly had me shaking with fury, adrenaline, nerves, and tears, I kept my calm, and went through security. I had some time to kill, even though that last infuriating encounter took a good 45 minutes, and I foolishly thought there would be food options through security. Alas, JFK is as bad as La Guardia. So I stopped at the Panda Express where Kristin Chenoweth (seriously, she could've been her with maybe a little Latino mixed in, but seriously that short and the same face and hair) waited on me. Turns out, my NWA flight to Detroit was delayed, which had me worried about my by-the-skin-of-your-teeth connection time of 45 minutes, but they assured us REPEATEDLY at the gate that all connections would still be made.
Cut to... we land in Detroit 25 minutes late, I call my mother as we taxi to say goodbye, and proceed to hurriedly rush off the plane (not like NWA would've been courteous enough to ask those without connections to let those of us with connections to de-plane first), hang up with mom, and pee fast as lightning. As I am rushing the 36 gates (probably a good mile) to my next flight, I hear "Final Boarding Call for NW Flight 25 to Tokyo! Passengers ___ and ___ and (me) please report to gate A40 immediately for final boarding." What am I supposed to do? I literally SPRINT through the airport, listening to my name called probably 3 times, SPRINTING across moving walkways (in Crocs mind you), rollybag in tow, nearly taking people out, and saying (under my breath to no one in particular/the voice overhead), "I'm on my way and hurrying as fast as I can!" I sprint up to the gate Home-Alone style, they ask me my name, and I get my passport/boarding pass out of my backpack. I wheeze out, "I'm sorry, our plane literally JUST landed from NY" and run onto the plane. At which point the gate agent politely tells me, "Don't worry, take your time". RIGHT NWA, because you were so kind as to communicate with your other employees and make sure I made the connection, or possibly have a cart waiting for me at the gate so I didn't have to sprint a mile (I mean, what if I was 60?), or heck, go out on a limb and not park my NY-Detroit flight 36 gates away!
Anyway, I made it onto the flight (thank goodness!) and found my seat. The so-called "exit row" was NOT, after all, a normal exit row, just a row with the exit in front of the window seat so that man had extra room, and therefore I foolishly gave up my aisle seat for the promise of extra leg room in the middle seat of an exit row only to find a nice seat in my knees and face. I sat between two very kind Asian men, the window who spoke English very well, and the aisle who clearly did not. We took off, and I slept on and off, thanks to the free wine, and the food was not half bad either (1 point NWA, 9,865 points Tophs). No hot chocolate though. The flight attendant told me I could find some at Starbucks (no joke) when I asked for some. Strike 45, NWA. And to top it all off, when it was discovered the sound of the movie system wasn't working (community ones, NWA isn't kind enough to have individual seat players like Qantas), a different flight attendant (from the hot chocolate Nazi) told us that they weren't going to reset or switch over to the secondary system for 2 hours until food service was over because they could only do it once and wanted to see if it would work once the actual movies started. Guess what? Two hours later... still no sound, they switched it, and magically it worked. So once again, NWA felt it kinder just to bore me out of my time for 2 hours than to provide a menial service like in-flight entertainment. Not that I'd call Dragonball or Race to Witch Mountain entertainment. And the one episode of "Mad Men", while beautiful to look at, in their opinion wasn't worth sound. But I whine and moan too much. There was one beautiful part (shocking!) -- when I found time to stretch my legs and travel back to look out the window and see Alaska or the Northern Territories from above. BEAUTIFUL.
But enough with the sarcasm... Let's move on to the good parts. Besides, it's way past bedtime.
Tokyo Airport is amazing and very English friendly. And of the 5 people on my flight who apparently chose Tokyo as their final destination, I found myself shocked that the airport felt more like 3 in the morning than 5 at night. Which my body surely THOUGHT was 3 in the morning. Seriously, VACANT. Got through customs in 5 minutes, and met the lovely lady with my name on a sign who escorted me to the Currency Exchange (much better rate here than in NYC), and to my limo service. Pretty much got totally in awe when she bowed as we drove away. So reverent. Really. Just beautiful. (NWA, you could learn something about service from the people here).
It was a beautiful drive in introspective silence since my driver spoke as much English as I do Japanese, and I just sat in awe at the greenery, the cars, the sunset, the skyscrapers, and was surprised at much of the English on signs.
First stifled giggle: Their EZPass-type toll booth readers here beep when they go through them, and in my driver's case, at one booth, it felt it necessary to speak. Which basically sounded high and feminine and squeaky and caught me totally by surprise in my silent car ride. Imagine the sultry GPS lady voice, only stereotypical 12 year-old Japanese girl voice speaking Japanese. Hence, giggle.
We pulled up, and I realized in shock that I would be living across the street from Babies R Us. No lie. Not even Babies R Us written in Japanese. The most American store possible. HA. Actually kinda bummed me out. Seriously, I walk out of my front door and you can see it and the apartment building across the street. Lame. Thank goodness everything else isn't quite so English-ified.
Had a lovely tour and orientation with Chris, who was so thrilled we had the same name. (I didn't have the heart to correct him). Moved in to my room, and laughed when I realized that every appliance requires an instruction manual to figure out how to work it. But I managed just fine. I even met a couple of the other performers (how nice it was to hear English, and I'd only been here an hour!) and one was even kind enough to help me carry my bags to my room! Thank you, kind sir!
So now... it is actually 7 hours later, 7 AM Friday, and alas, after being that tired, I only managed to sleep till 4 AM. It felt even better when the sun peeked its head out 4:30 AM - NOT. I vote that Japan should join the ranks of Daylight Savings Time. Not that I even have a vote. At which point I revisited the classic comedy "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and made me a tad homesick (and more loving and appreciative) for Astoria. Managed to sneak in another 45 minutes or so of dreaming sleep (I had all sorts of crazy dreams about TDR) and found myself wide awake at 6 AM.
So here I am, ready to complete this re-telling of Day 1 of Tophs in Tokyo! After a solid 45 minutes of scoping out my "hospital room" (as Michael so lovingly described it), I ventured down the street to the Ito. Now for those of you unfamiliar with Urayasu, the Ito Yakado is basically your local grocery store, Super Wal-Mart style. I merely ventured through the first floor which has a KFC, McD's, Bakery, Grocery, Clothing Department, and there's still two more to discover (including the elusive 100 Yen store!). It was here I realized how much of a "Tophs out of Water" I really am! I had seen a few English-speaking faces on the way (in variably on their way home from a long day at the park) and in the apartment complex as well. But not at 8 PM in the Ito! My mom later asked if people were staring at me, but honestly, I was so intent on finding one final meal, and some milk, cereal, and juice for the morning whilst exploring the overwhelming experience that is grocery shopping, that I didn't notice anything except pictures, products I had to guess at, and the little gem of an English word/brand here or there! I managed to find my groceries, but failed at even the simple task of remembering bottled water, and frankly, was too exhausted to do much but check out. I don't think I've ever demurely said "Hello" to someone before, or basically managed to pull off an entire transaction without saying or understanding ANYTHING, but there you have it. I did it. Awkward, quiet, introspective Tophs just trying to be polite and not offend anyone. Thank goodness people had warned me about money going in the tray, and even though I felt CRAZY, I'm guessing the people at the Ito are totally used to it with all the gai-jin down the road. Nonetheless, I managed to succumb and order by pointing at McD's for my first Big Mac in years! I won't even try to hide the fact at how good it tasted, probably because I was overwhelmed and overstimulated and starving. The lovely girl did manage to ask "to go?" and I was on my way. Realizing the water error, I stopped into the 7-11 that's on the way, and found myself once again so uncomfortable. The girl behind the counter was ADORABLE and remarkably sweet, and even carried on a minor conversation in English with me (she probably knew more than I expected or gave her credit for) and I managed to use coin currency for the first time. Honestly, I was just ready to change and head for bed.
I called my mom as she was heading to work (6 AM her time) and I think more than anything it really comforted her to know I made it here safely. Then I devoured the Big Mac (seriously, I'm shocked at how good it was, I never get a burger with cheese or mayo on it), and sat down to finish this monster of a blog.
Now a relaxing morning before orientation and Alien Registration and costume fitting day! Here's to hoping I actually bought milk, and not cream of some sort!
In summary, though, I think the most ironic part of the day is that in the whole overwhelming and exhausting experience, the part that had me shaking on the verge of tears, and ready to never move overseas again was checking in in the frakkin' United States. When I was rested, fed, and pleasant! Maybe it's because I expect to be confused and lost every step of the way here in Japan and therefore am attempting to approach everything with patience. And for some strange, remarkable reason, I'd expect JFK employees not to treat me like a terrorist.
Meh. Welcome to Japan, Tophs! Here goes NOTHIN'!
