Planes, trains and deaf brother-in-laws…

“what the crap do you mean you’re not going????” I said to Nicole when she came to wake me up for the golf day. I took very little notice of her red rimmed eyes.

“I just….I can’t. Its not a good day. I can’t go. But you have to go Karen.  It’s probably the only thing he’s looked forward to in a long time! I know he got a babysitter for this. You can’t cancel on him!”

“NICOLE!!! OMG. WHAT IF HE THINKS IT’S A DATE. I can’t believe your doing this to me. He’s going to get the wrong idea if its just me and him. NICOLE. ARE YOU TRYING TO SET ME UP WITH HIM?????”

“I’M NOT I PROMISE. I just can’t go. Stuff is going on. I’ll explain later.”

“well,   you call him and tell him its just me and him and see what his reaction is. This is a disaster.”  Slammed the door as I went to the bathroom.

He was fine with it. Said we would just shoot a bucket of balls and we’d be done by noon….

I walked home at midnight that day. Shoes in my hands, twirling my hair in one finger and giggling as I walked up the street.  Completely and utterly in love with a man that wasn’t even a possibility 18 hours before.  As I opened the door to my old apartment at Nicole’s I paused for a second.  I made myself think about the future- something I rarely did…but this seemed to carry some importance. This wasn’t just a “thing”. This man had children.  I wasn’t going to be able to fall out of this love, cut and run like I do. And what is going on with your sister? Grow up- be the sister she is to you. Be an adult. It’s time you figure some things out. Play this one smart Karen.

JAPAN DAY TWO:

What a perfect first night! We watched the lights of Tokyo until they started to blur as I fell asleep. And then, I started with repacking at 4am.  Wide awake and ready to go. Side note- all night every time I asked Chris to turn over he said “I THOUGHT IT WAS 10am”. At the top of his lungs. He doesn’t remember it and he has no idea why he said it. All. Night. No joke.

Anyway- so yes, we repacked and re organized. I had a long bath with the hotel bath salts and it was the first time I think I’ve relaxed in 6 months.  I worked for a bit. Then blogged. Then we just simply lazed around. It was glorious. Chris and Gary did what any respectable Muppet does on the first morning of vacation and went for breakfast beers.  Brought them back for the house muppets. Then we left for the airport to meet our group and pretend we haven’t been here for 24 hours already.  As you know, we always like to arrive a day early in case of travel changes, and to give ourselves extra time to acclimate. And the tour specifically says its to start at Haneda airport, so for some reason we decide to die by the lie that we just got here- having a debrief before we leave the hotel for the airport- remember….we are tired. We just got here. I take another lorazepam just to make it more realistic- I’m super method.

So we are uber-ing back to the airport. And this poor uber driver is rethinking his entire life. Japanese like to travel in silence. And Nicole and I take that as a personal challenge. You tell us we can’t laugh? And all of a sudden it’s Saturday night live in the back seat. I had skits. There were sock puppets. It was a whole thing. All to say- we had no eye make up on by the time we got to the airport and this driver no doubt went home to tell his family he had the most stressful day at work he’s ever had, their plans to visit Canada are cancelled and he’s becoming a monk. Poor guy.

He can’t figure out why we want to be dropped off at arrivials at the airport with all of our luggage. Fair. So he drops us at Departures and I’m sure is on the phone with his wife as he drives away “these crazy white people I just picked up……”.

We meet the lady that is tasked with meeting the 4 Canadians who just arrived on a 13 hour flight and taking them to the hotel in Tokyo. She looks as confused as we are when she sees us bright eyed and bushy tailed, maybe a little hung over.  But thank goodness we were well rested.  What we had to do to get to the hotel is hairy even by amazing race standards.  It wouldn’t have been so bad, except we have all our luggage. So as we weave in and out of escalators and hallways, pulling our 50 lb rolly’s, I’m rethinking my decision to wear these cute shoes.  Then we get on the train…..and here’s the thing about people who can’t hear….they are loud. Its an oxymoron that I never remember after all my years dealing with a ½ deaf father…that if you tell a person who is hard of hearing to be quiet, they will ALWAYS scream WHATTTTTT???? At the top of their lungs. And then scream it again. And again. And it will not stop. It just won’t.

The thing about Japanese trains is that NO ONE TALKS.  Like not a sound.  NYC trains? There will literally be people practicing their Jay-z skills. Playing accordions. Tap dancing. Swearing. Talking to each other from the other end of the train. On their speaker phones like no one else exists. Gossiping like they are the only ones in the world.

NOT IN JAPAN.  Not a peep.  Not even a cough. If you blink too hard everyone will turn and stare at you with a “what’s all the commotion” glare.

So as we THROW our suitcases on the train, all twisted together trying to wiggle our way into the small space left for us, the doors are closing and the sounds from the platform and trains is subsiding and Gary is yelling- “HEY CHRIS!!….CHRIS!!….I FELT THAT!!! BEHAVE YOURSELF YOU CHEAKY MONKEY!!” giggling like he just got felt up.  And the more Nicole and I look at him and say “shhhhhhhh!” mouthing “STOP!!!” the more he ramps up- not noticing that there is complete silence around us, jaws on the floor.

By the time he figures out what we are saying….and we look around….45982 seated Asians are staring at us with the disgust reserved for things like animal cruelty and crapping your pants in public.  And we’ve lost our guide.  She is googling job openings. Standing at the other end of the train. Distancing herself.

25 mins and a train change later we arrive in downtown Tokyo and at our hotel, hands aching from pushing these bags on the riveted streets.

The hotel is spacious for downtown Tokyo- but……have you ever been on a cruise? ….wait….have you ever been on the inside single cabin on a ferry?  Have you ever slept in a closet? Have you ever hot boxed in a closet? Ever slept in a dutch oven like a roast chicken?  That’s our room.  And we did know that..we knew it would be small.  Tokyo is known for these tiny rooms. When you put 35 million people in a space smaller then NYC- this is what you have to do. But compared to the sprawling room we had last night? ….Chris and I are going to have make a plan to synchronize our breathing so we don’t die of oxygen deprivation.  I feel like Godzilla.  I feel like this room is on Ozempic.  NYC makes you feel small.  Tokyo makes you feel like the largest person to ever walk on planet earth.

We drop our bags off in our closet room and take to the streets- terrified of getting lost we stay close to home.  We go into a few shops and get some supplies for the room, snacks and drinks.  Straws for breathing out the windows.  Fresh thyme to sprinkle on our skin….

A few observations about this city- it’s the cleanest place I’ve ever seen.  Not one scrap of trash. And not even a trash can- they just don’t do garbage.  Guys, I mean not a speck! And everyone is so very polite, ladies first always, elderly and children are prised. Its very refreshing- and I shake my head at how far we have removed ourselves in the west from the civilized ways of the old world. There are no rude teenagers pushing you out of the way. No political propaganda anywhere. No one has a scowl.  Its kind of surreal. But not in a robotic way- just none of the unnecessary things we have decided to bog ourselves down with to prove who we are at all times- wearing our opinions and feelings in a way that screams them at others. And its almost childlike here- and I don’t mean that in a rude way.  But there is an innocence to even the level at which words are spoken- soft and melodic.  Their advertisements are often anime- cartoon characters instead of models often grace the billboards. The fashion is fierce, but tight and simple.

I have not heard a single horn here.  I’m not even sure the cars have them? Not. One. Beep. And traffic is much more controlled and far less chaotic. Almost polite.

We go back to the hotel for some drinks before heading to the lobby to meet, for the first time, our tour group for 6pm.  And they seem to be a lovey mixture. 4 New Zealanders (mom dad and 2 teenagers) 6 from Australia, 2 more canadians and a female Londoner traveling alone. I think we’ll all get along just fine- no tariffs in sight.  Issue is,  a few drinks on an empty stomach has put Nicole and I firmly in the bag.  We are giggling like we were in the uber on the way to the airport, and now we have signed up and paid for every extra our tour guide has to offer.  I’m pretty sure we bought 4 cat costumes, and have signed Chris and Gary up for a geisha experience which I think means they are now married to someone else with very tiny feet.  It was a blur.  Shut up and take our money.

We leave the meeting and head out for dinner.  RAMEN. And we are very careful to spell out to the boys that we are having NOODLES. NOT RUM.

Under Tokyo is another city altogether. An intricate maze of shops and food venders. When I was told this, for some reason, I pictured the markets in Beijing. Or the crazy hot spice market in Morocco. No.  absolutely nothing like those.  As we descend down the stairs we are shocked to find its clean and much like a mall, just underground. Rows and rows of shops- all very high end- now we know why we couldn’t find too much to buy this afternoon on our first venture out.  Its all down here!

And its intimidating to order food in a different language. But I am determined to get Ramen.  Its been my goal since childhood to eat ramen in Japan. And we are making that happen tonight.  We find a spot that looks very busy with locals (a sure sign its good) and stand at the entrance waiting for someone to tell us what to do.  But that doesn’t happen.  So I find someone who looks almost as confused as us, but has successfully ordered, and ask if they speak English. He says “a little? I’m German-and its my first time too…”.  He explains that we need to order off the touch screen menu, and it will spit out a ticket for each of your items and then someone will come tell you when there’s a seat.  So of course in perfect Karen style I order for Chris and I, and order extra of every single thing. If its there I order it.  Im pretty sure I added chocolate sprinkles and sparklers.  This thing spits out tickets like I just won the big windfall on the slots in Vegas. I think we got 14 tickets each.  The chefs behind the counter are laughing at us as they come over and ask if we are ready to eat. And then they sit us down and hand us a bowl of noodles that is heaven. I can’t even begin. It is absolutely incredible. And it comes with extra everything just like you’d expect from a fat Westerner – noodles, pork, boiled egg, green onions all doubled up. Nicole and Gary the same.  And of course, 2 beers please.  The slurpier the better in Japan with noodles. We sound like were in the slurping Olympics. In fact, I’d swear there WAS rum in these Newfoundlanders noodles.  I’m almost embarrassed. Almost.  Secretly I’m quite proud of us.

We roll out of the restaurant all moaning from fullness.

Its quiet in downtown Tokyo. Just the sounds of a random car, someone laughing in the distance.

The moon is out.

We know our way back to our hotel, so we stroll. No google maps breaking the spell.

Holding hands with our loves.

Up to our Muppet water closet bar.

We open the two windows wide.  Sit on the window sill, feet on the roof of the first floor.  Tokyo breathing around us. Rum and cokes poured. Loud laughing about our day. Talking about things that only come out after nights like these.  With a sense of urgency to get it out in the moment, and a laziness about privacy and decorum.  Sentences that start with, “I’ve always thought that….” And “you taught me that….”.

Its only night two….and already….

Magic.

“To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it’s a story you can’t tell. It’s a story you almost by definition, can’t share. I’ve learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment.”

–Anthony Bourdain