First 12 Hours
—imagining that it was written immediately after the 12-hour-experience—
I woke on my seat, checking the time on my watch.
“We are about to land on the farthest place I will have been from my home.”
I gazed down the sea on the windows; escalating number of boat lights indicated that we were near the Land of the Rising Sun. The dark seas mingling with the lights looked like stars that fell from the sky. As we moved farther, the stars only kept on shimmering more but their heights differed—we were finally above land. It was constantly one of the best moments in my life—to see entirety from above like a free bird.
As I treaded out of the airplane, the nippy air invigorated my skin—what more if I feel the breeze outside the airport? We were welcomed by our hosts, we took pictures, and I got to know my Japanese Family: Daito, 13, who is one year younger then me; Naoki, his mother; and Ricci, his father. We headed to their car and as I paced out of the sophisticated airport, I fused with nature as I felt the best wind I have ever felt in my life—it was so refreshingly cold that I had to clinch myself. We entered the car and dashed on the smoothest and most alluring superhighway I have been—everything was even more enhanced than the movies’. I felt sheltered journeying even with strangers for the vibe felt safe; they utterly conversed with me asking almost everything about my life—I felt eased that my Japanese mother is an English Teacher.
We arrived at their modest house and executed one thing Japanese people do upon entering houses—we took off our shoes on the entranceway called “genkan” and walked barefoot. The floor felt so glossy that I could go skate on wood. Grandma, alongside Grandpa, welcomed me with a dazzling beam—a smile I could never forget.
They led me to my bedroom—a meditation room. The floor called Tatami which was made of rice straw seemed like it was sipping all the stress from my head through my body and feet. The classic aroma of the house was pungent at my room; it felt like being on a psyche hospital. If there is a negative degree in temperature, I could say that the tranquility of the room had frozen me. I was then thought how to set up my bed on the floor; it was a foreign bed with so much layers before the bedsheet. I felt like immersing my body on marshmallows when I laid on my bed. There was no internet and communication with family and friends last night, so I slumbered earlier. It felt terrific having my mind relaxed—my mind with nothing much to stress or think about. It was an achievement to have slept in another country without my family.
I woke on my alarm and grandma’s knock. I stood on my feet putting on my uniform; I did not take a bath like I do in the morning—because I was a Japanese here in Japan. I opened the sliding doors at the back of their house, and the dog playing, the plants and flowers dancing, and the frosty wind touching me spiced up my day—it was a spectacular morning impression. The hearty Japanese breakfast that I ate—large strawberries, tamagoyaki, seaweed rice, and miso soup—revitalized my mind and soul.
We rode the car to the train station; Daito and I went together on the train. We embarked the train and saw suits everywhere—it proved the country being an established one. I relished the one hour travel on the train that seemed seconds only; the serene people and the structured houses I saw brought again the feeling on my Japanese room—peace of mind.
We walked from the train station to Nagoya International High School (NIHS). There were bikes and students all over the place. The streets were busy but at the same time—in harmony. We arrived at the school; there we entered and just let the equanimity enter our bodies. The school was so tidy, tranquil, and mesmerizing. It was just my first 12 hours in Japan, but I already had a lot to remember. I still have about 200 hours—adventure awaits!