Other columns

by A.K.

My first visit to Japan held a lot more meaning to me than just asimple vacation. Sure, I planned to do my share of sightseeing, but I???had also come with a mission. I had a brand-new diamond ring in my
pocket, and I was going to ask my Japanese girlfriend to marry me.

Like most foreigners, my first encounter with Japan was at Narita.???I’ll forever remember the descent over water and then over land,feeling the thrill and amazement of seeing the land of the rising sun for the very first time. My eyes were fixated out the window of the 777, spying on mountains in the distance and a multitude of farms cut out of the landscape like a patchwork quilt below. I was instantly reminded of something I had read in a Japanese guidebook - Narita Airport was built on land taken away rather forcefully from farmers by the government, and the airport frequently experiences demonstrations and even threats of terrorism. I gazed down at the runways coming into sight below and imagined them filled with grains and vegetables
growing in the warm sunshine, but suddenly the plane touched down and all I could think was “I am here. I’m finally here???”. I reached into the pocket of my coat and touched the box containing the diamond ring
inside as I had done dozens of times throughout the twelve-hour flight, afraid of losing it.

Getting off the plane took some time. Almost everyone was already standing up and waiting in the aisles, eager to make their exit.
Everyone had messy hair and wrinkled clothing. This made me wonder about my own appearance. I must have looked quite awful too. I did not sleep at all. I was much too excited.

When I finally got off the plane, I was welcomed to Japan numerous times by staff from the airline and herded along with everyone else to the shuttle that would take us to the main terminal. I was happy to
see signs in English everywhere I went. My Japanese at that time was extremely limited, so it was a huge relief to know that I would be able to get around on my own.

Immigration procedures at Narita for foreigners are fairly simple. On my first visit, the wait was really long. The line, twisting and turning, seemed to go on forever. Most everyone on my flight from New York was Japanese, I assumed. There were middle-aged men in business attire and young people with orange hair wearing “I LOVE NY” t-shirts. Aside from some of the crew members, I was one of the few Caucasians on the plane, so it was interesting to see a line full of them from different flights. I wondered where they all came from and what brought them to Japan. A lot of them were British or Australian judging from their accents. An older woman in line behind me was American. She noticed my US passport and struck up a conversation, telling me she was from Texas and came to Japan to visit her son who is in the military. She talked about how she couldn’t wait to try real Japanese food and hoped she wouldn’t have trouble ordering in restaurants when she was alone. It seemed she was more excited about food than anything else. All I could think of was getting past immigration and wrapping my arms around my beautiful girlfriend, who I knew was out there waiting for me somewhere.

At that point, the last we’d seen each other was three months earlier when she came to visit me in New York for three weeks. If any readers have experienced repeated and long separations from the love of your
life, you understand exactly what we were going through.

I worried in line that there would be some problem at the counter to keep me from entering the country, but the man didn’t even look up at me. He just grabbed my papers, looked things over, stamped them, and handed them back.

Next step was down an escalator to baggage claim. All of the baggage from my flight was sitting on the floor. An official-looking guy in a blue uniform with white gloves was watching after it. I spotted my bag
immediately and wheeled it over to the inspection counter. The man there didn’t smile. His English was broken, but effective: “How long stay in Japan?”. “What your purpose in Japan?” “Please to have good
stay in Japan.”

From there, I was lead through a door and onto a large elevator, and before I knew it I was entering the Arrivals Lobby. I looked around in a panic, searching for my girlfriend. I couldn’t spot her. A million thoughts swam through my head at once. What if she didn’t come to meet me? What if something happened to her?

But then I saw it ? the most beautiful face on earth. She had been faithfully waiting for me for hours. Her beautiful smile alone was worth the trip.

We held each other. We kissed. Everything wrong about our lives became right again in an instant. All the frustration, pain, and loneliness from our separation were instantly erased.

At last, we were together again.

Endnotes:

We were married October 2004 in a small ceremony in lower Manhattan,
and are now living happily together in the United States with a hope
of moving to Japan sometime in the future.

Please visit my photography blog: http://phototype.seesaa.net