Japan Trip Part Two

This is a story of the past, but allow me to rewind even further back, all the way to spring semester of ’09. Have you ever had one seemingly-chance meeting with someone, only to find – sooner or later – that its effects were profound? I’ve had several, myself. This one in particular transpired at the UNCC International Coffee hour. I ran into Bo-Young Kim, a beautiful friend of mine, and told her that I was learning Japanese. She asked if I needed a conversation partner. I said I did. Then, she introduced me to her friend (and soon to be mine, too) Noriyuki Kanemitsu. “Nori!” she called, her words thrown at the sparse crowd of remaining people. My eyes searched for the owner of the name, waiting for one of them to turn his back. It was the one wearing the denim jacket and 49ers cap. Nori turned around, his bespectacled and friendly face looking toward Bo-Young. She introduced us, and we became instant friends. From that night forward, our friendship grew; we even had our own inside jokes. Along with two other friends of mine, Noriyki and I went to New York City. Truly, he had become one of my best friends.

Now, bear with me, because I’m going to fast-forward a bit, bringing us back to spring semester of 2010, when I was still racking my brain as to how I would stay in Japan without soon becoming broke. One night, via Skype, I was telling Nori about my trip to Japan. He offered I could stay with him, but warned me about the tiny, one-person apartment he lived in. ‘Would that really be okay? I thought you were busy with school and teaching,’ I brought up. He informed me that school was over, and that his practice teaching job (he wants to become an English teacher) was nearly finished. In other words, I had a place to stay, and at an affordable, attractive price: free.

The weeks after that were spent preparing for the trip. Throughout these days, excitement burned and grew more and more within my chest.

The morning I set off for the Land of the Rising Sun seemed to begin like any other day. Surprisingly, I didn’t have all the symptoms of one going to Disney Land for the first time: my hands weren’t shaking with excitement, my heartbeat didn’t sound like the slaps of an angry percussionist on his drums, and I didn’t have to revisit the bathroom five times in five minutes. Rather, I felt as if all were right, as if all the stars and planets in this universe aligned, and that a delightful inevitability had finally come: I was going to Japan because I was meant to go.
With early morning still smothering the airport windows black, I bid my final goodbyes to my family and walked down the security line feeling much like pioneers must have years ago – wonderfully independent and frighteningly alone.