And before I know it...

I’m back in Japan.

It’s been a long summer; I knew there would be much to do when I got my acceptance letter to Waseda University, but I practically burned out before I even got to Japan. On top of all of the preparations for my upcoming journey, I had a number of jobs that kept me quite busy throughout the summer months. I’m surprised that I was able to get everything done in time to leave. Everyone has asked me one of two questions at least once this summer: "are you packed," and "are you excited." With all the frantic scrambling to get everything done and ready to go, up until the day before my flight, I was neither.

Originally, around 45 students from the various CSU campuses were accepted by the Office of International Programs (OIP) in Long Beach, but for some reason or another, only about 24 of us made it through the second round of selections by Waseda’s own office. I feel a strange mixture of relief and guilt; while I am glad that I was able to make the cut and get into the program, I feel sorry not only for those who weren’t as lucky, but also for the Japanese degree-seeking students who had worked so hard to pass their entrance exams, and are paying tuition fees astronomically higher than mine. I know there is little point in feeling this way, I just felt like recording this observation for posterity. We all follow our own paths, and although I am paying far less than the average student here, I am doing so without the aid of scholarships or student loans. I can only be thankful for having been blessed with such prudent parents.

Ordering the group flight tickets offered by OIP, my departure date was set for September 11^th. This ominous date was compounded by the fact that I’d be flying United. Despite the coincidence of my travel plans, I knew that there was little point in worrying about what might happen. The only hiccup in my plans was the restrictions on liquids in carry-on luggage. As I was planning on bringing honey and wine as omiyage (souvenirs/gifts), I had to devise a method of packing them to withstand the onslaught of baggage “throwers.” My solution was to secure the bottles in a thick layer of bubble wrap, then vacuum seal them to protect against leaks into the rest of my luggage. Everything made it to our destination without incident, so I might be onto something.

After saying my goodbyes to everyone the morning of my flight, my dad drove me down to the airport. On the way down, we stopped at In-and-Out for my “sayonara burger.” We made it down to the airport about two hours before my flight was scheduled, and he waited in the baggage line with me. A week prior, we went down to Marin to walk the Bear Valley Trail together. I had invited the new Japanese exchange students to join us, but with the school year starting the day after the hike, they were mercifully indisposed. In silence or engrossed in conversation, I enjoy my father’s company immensely.

While the baggage counter took an unacceptable amount of time, it gave me a chance to say a proper goodbye to my dad. I sailed through security passed the throngs of confused travelers who didn’t have the foresight to check the TSA’s website for the new security restrictions. The flight was relatively uneventful; my video monitor was busted, so the stewardesses gave me a voucher for some kind of discount in the future. In either case, I found a window seat with a working screen, so I was able to enjoy the glory that is Nacho Libre and Mission Impossible 3. Needless to say, I spent most of the flight either reading or meditating.

After touchdown, I once again sailed through customs and security. One of the other students was wearing a black trench-coat and large-rimmed black hat, and got patted down. I guess it pays to look the part of the unassuming tourist. Kazaoka-sensei, the Japanese teacher in charge of Waseda’s CSU program was waiting at the gate with Shek-sensei, her American counterpart (coincidentally from my own school). They escorted us to the bus for the 2-hour ride to our hotel in Tokyo.

We arrived at the hotel and were assigned rooms; my roommate was a nice guy named Stephen, from San Francisco State (as is practically else from CSU). We have quite an eclectic group of students in our midst. I have no illusions of clairvoyance, but you know that feeling you get when you first meet someone and you hope that first impressions are just that, but the more time you spend with them the more solid your convictions become? Well, for now I think I'll just chalk it up to the excitement of finally getting to this point in their lives.

Our first dinner was at, believe it or not, Shakey’s pizza. We had a toast to the coming year and some brief introductions. That night, I led a group of about 6 students on a little expedition to show them the school. Surprisingly enough, I had remembered the layout well enough to guide them through the maze of side-streets and alleys to show them the major areas they would become familiar with in the coming months. I swear I don’t seek a leadership position, but I just tend to end up ahead of the pack. Exhausted, we returned to the hotel and promptly passed out. This is going to be an interesting year.