Sunday morning, we headed out to the international terminal of O’Hare and were absolutely giddy as we waited at the gate of our Japan Airlines plane. The contrasts between the East and the West were abundantly clear, as throughout the flight, we would get friendly reminders to keep our noise level down for our neighbours and watch videos reminding us to stretch to improve our circulation, similar to Richard Simmons workouts.
As we made our way to Tokyo, since we would have a layover before Seoul, I realized the enormity of Canada. Our flight flew out of the United States, north to Manitoba and then northwest to the Yukon Territories before cutting down to Japan. The flight seemed to drag on as we flew above Canada and that is when the grandiose size of Canada really hit me. We were over it for 6 out of our 13 hours in the air!
I was so excited to get off the plane and stretch and have more than a square foot of space to myself. Standing taller than the Japanese people around me, it was then that I realized exactly how I was different. Their dress was formal with a fobby twist. They kept to themselves and were quiet. They moved quickly and with determination. I, on the other hand, was dressed in Western style, a little loud (because everything was fascinating to me), and trying to weave my way through the crowd and terminal, fighting helplessly against the crowd of Japanese people getting off other planes.
Since we had a couple hours for our layover, our group exchanged some dollars for yen and began to check out Japanese culture. I hoped to be seen as different from the rest of the group since I was Asian, and so I tried my hand at saying “aragato” and “konichiwa” to everyone. And to my surprise, they thought I was Japanese!
The terminal was pristine to the max. Every window was sparkling clean and every door was neat and organized. There are no security cameras in the airports because they don’t need them; everyone should know the rules. Every plant is tenderly cared for because presentation and aesthetics is everything to this culture. I watched, and took a picture, as a Japanese worker at the airport straightened out flowers and cared for them affectionately using tools from his flower cart. You would not see this kind of time and attention paid to flowers in the United States. You would not have a store without security cameras. That is just the way America works: focus on yourself and protect yourself.
We passed some of the time away with 200 yen massage chairs. At first I was a little skeptical but as soon as the chair started to work its magic, the knots and tension in my back and legs started to drain away. I would not mind paying 200 yen again for 10 minutes of calm and relaxation with this chair; it was the highlight of my time in the Tokyo airport.
Other small things such as bowing to people out of respect, profane toys at the souvenir shop, and colourful manga popped out at me as I soaked in Japanese culture. Similar yet so different, the Japanese opened themselves to American culture but still kept their own little flavour.
We got on our plane to Seoul. And nothing eventful happened… except that I got a nosebleed as we were about to land! I was in the bathroom, trying to clot the thing up when I heard the sound for passengers to sit down. So I grabbed a wab of tissues and tried to jam them up my nose and prayed that it would stop flowing. Needless to say, my landing in Seoul was not exactly what I had pictured it to be. I had to fight my way through the crowd back up the airplane to fix it up and then was nearly elbowed aside as we were getting out. Koreans move fast and they move with purpose. Our group was nearly overwhelmed at the train station to customs by the hordes of people coming down the elevator and trying to board the train.
And at customs, I received my first ever real international stamp in my passport! I was really happy because I also used my Korean with the customs agent and she smiled. Maybe she thought I was Korean.
My first real glimpses of Seoul came from the bus ride to the hotel, peering out into the blackness. The city was very bright and upon closer inspection, seemed to still be bustling, even on a Monday night. People do not seem scared to be out at night in the city, women walk around freely, businesswomen stand outside their meeting places smoking cigarettes, people bicycle by the river and camp out beside it, food stands still sell things on sticks even at 11 pm. But even with all this going on, the city is not loud. The sound seems almost subdued or muted. That is the way they do it in Seoul.
The city is bright, with lots of lights. Stores and restaurants are still open, leaving themselves to the late-night wanderings of young Korean adults. In all the time it took the bus to reach our hotel, I only saw two homeless people. Or at least, I thought they were since they were sleeping on benches.
Total time it took to travel halfway across the world and arrive in our final destination of Seoul, South Korea = 22 hours. Let the fun begin.
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