I flew to Tokyo from Chengdu via Beijing. Most of the passengers on the first leg of the flight got off in Beijing. Most of the passengers on the second leg of the flight got on in Beijing, leaving just a marginal number (12) of us who take the entire CA 421 flight.
For some reason, the passengers bound for Tokyo and those bound for Beijing are separated before boarding. When I arrived at the gate for boarding (i.e. a bus that would take us to the plane), the sign listed another flight, so I asked (in Chinese) the airport personnel if this was the gate bound for Japan. She told me to “wait a moment” and I took a seat with a group of 40 and 50 something Japanese businessmen. For the first time in nearly three months, I heard real people (not iTunes) speaking Japanese. Just the cadence made me super pumped and even more so once I realized that I still understood pieces of their conversations.

When the time came to board the bus, the personnel made an announcement, oddly enough, in English. The businessmen, I guessed, didn’t speak much English, because they all looked at me to see what I was gonna do. I usually don’t find pleasure in being that guy who runs to the front of the line, but this time I was forced to be the first mover.

During the pre-flight procedures, an announcement was made that one Japanese stewardess was on board. I thought about some friends in China telling me that they can tell the difference between Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans. I’ve always thought that, like with Americans and English, I can only tell the difference based on style or accent/language, but not by face. That is to say, if we were all stripped of our clothes, make-up, and hair-styles, I don’t believe anyone could tell the difference. Anyhow, because all the stewardesses must wear a common uniform and cannot have over-styled hair, make up or nails, I thought it’d be a good test for me to differentiate.
Approaching Beijing airport is a real treat for a number of reasons. First, you get a Bird’s eye view of all the construction, including the airport itself, not to mention a unique perspective on Hutongs. Second, people from all over the world, speaking any number of languages. For me, it was the first time in three months since I heard a live native English speaker. My reaction was similar to that when I heard Japanese - super pumped, amazed, actually. Third, after being used to the way people behave here, I got a chance to look at “my people” (whatever that means) through the same lens as locals. For example, one guy talking loud on his cell phone about “deals” he “can’t talk about now because there’s people around” was a little annoying. Maybe the Chinese couldn’t understand, but for me スーパ うざいよ！！Well, come to think of it, the Chinese talk loud on their cells, too, but I can’t understand so it’s not really annoying.

I forgot to mention, I was sitting next to a Chinese guy on the flight from Chengdu to Beijing. He looked a little uncomfortable, like he didn’t fly often. How do I know this look? Because I had the same look I’m better than I used to be, but like him, I once gripped the arm rests during take-off, and read the in-flight magazines repeatedly in an attempt to ignore that pesky turbulence. Anyway, it reminded me of what an honor it is to fly, how lucky I am, how powerless and vulnerable I am on those planes. To go between two different worlds in the matter of hours is, perhaps, one of the greatest privileges some of us are afforded in our lifetime. Anyway, this all reminds me of my first time on a plane. Well, actually, my first time on a plane, I jumped out. But my first time on a commercial flight - Columbus to Chicago - I was amazed that people could sleep on an airplane; that they didn’t want to look out the window; that they didn’t feel nervous. I can sleep now, but I still feel in awe that a big chunk of metal can fly so fast, high, and far, full of people and their luggage. Amazing. Respect to the Wright Brothers.
次です。After landing in Beijing and getting stamped out, we re-boarded. I took a sequence of shots during take off. The first three are of the plane’s shadow, the fourth is of Hutongs and finally a “head in the clouds” shot.

Back to the stewardess. The whole time I’m trying to figure out which was Japanese. I could immediately rule out two of them based on the way they interact with one another. I finally get it down to two of them based on make-up. I make my final decision when one hands me a glass of water - she gave me this smile and a super-slight tilt of the head that, I thought, only a Japanese person is capable of doing. We landed, and I thought I’d have to leave without ever confirming if my guess was right. But then, as I was waiting for the train, a woman walks up beside me to form a line. It’s her. Even more than in the dimly lit, window shades down Boeing. At this point I’m almost certain she is Japanese - otherwise she’d probably be staying in a hotel near the airport with the rest of the Chinese crew, not waiting for the Keisei. Finally, someone walks up to her and she starts speaking Japanese. やっぱり！！！Anyway, she was super beautiful, the type you just want to stare at, but not like a stalker, unless your screen name is “Your Brother”.
Anyway, stepping into Tokyo is stepping into another world. The style makes my head explode. The women…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh…a sexy girl on the train drinking a tall boy of Asahi…marry me…the vending machines…can learn a lot about Japanese from that vending machine and the decision making process they go through, the sounds of the trains, the automated conductors, nodding off on the train like it was a birth right, a backpacker looking lost as hell, letting him feel that and then helping him out. Telling him the story of Hachiko. Warning him what a blast he is gonna have in Tokyo, knowing that he still can’t comprehend it. Wanting to speak English to a native speaker, but he was super tired and sounded like a zombie, so I’d been better off with a cab driver here. He asked me if it was illegal to smoke and walk at the same time. Explaining that it wasn’t illegal, but maybe a little impolite, but to make the decision on his own. Sending messages on my cell phone. Everyone on the train sending messages on their cell phones. Fare adjustments!!! The Yamanote line!!!!!!!! Guys in suits, lots of guys in suits, looking sharp as knives. People sitting with their feet together, so as to not take up too much space. Women holding handbags tightly in their lap. Umbrellas. Overcome with excitement, a thick layer of sadness, still. Tokyo, my first love…

I arrived at Sangubashi around 1130. あいかわらず、Hikaru and I stayed awake until 0400 talking。

The next day, I had two goals - visit Yoyogi Koen and eat a natto big mac. Visiting Yoyogi was like a reunion with an old lover. You know she’s changed, but not quite sure how. You wonder what the chemistry will be like. Would I fall back into that extreme state of comfort that we shared in the past, or had things changed? Shit, ain’t a damn thing changed. Yoyogi was even more beautiful than when I had left. I soaked it all up. Went to the grocery store and got that natto, some pickled vegetables, etc. Home and crushed that specialty. うfrigginまい.。なつかしい。