Lent Day 15 "Tokyo"

I have written previously about my trip to Japan and the sheer beauty I enjoyed there.  I was 11 when we arrived there (12th birthday during the trip--but that may just be another entry), and it was the first time that I had been out of the country.  My grandmother had gotten a wild burr in her head to travel to Japan, and decided that she wanted to take me with her.  My teachers at the time (yay for good Maryland schools) understood that I would learn far more by experiencing that trip than I would spending the time in their classes, so they created some extended assignments for me, and wished me a good journey.

So, Gramma and I packed up and left for Japan in mid-February, 1991.  It was the height of the first Gulf War, and there were hefty (suggested) restrictions on travel, especially by the Japanese government and the US.  When our flight left LA for Tokyo, there were a total of 11 passengers.  It was the longest flight I had ever been on, expected to be 14 hours.  I still have the pack of Delta Airlines playing cards which were given to me by a flight attendant.  The fortunate thing about so empty of a flight was that you could take one of the middle sections of the seats, flip up all the arms, and stretch out and sleep like it was a couch.  I awoke just before we arrived in Tokyo, where it was almost night.  The sun set behind buildings festooned with miraculous displays of neon.  I remember being on the 22cd floor of the hotel, and because I had already slept so much on the plane, I wasn't particularly tired.  So, I climbed into the bay window in our room and watched the flashing lights of the city that lay below me.  I know that I slept some that night, but woke up long before dawn being greatly hungry.  Since Gramma hadn't woken up yet, I again went to the bay window and looked out on the city.  Some clouds had moved in, bringing a slight snow flurry with them.  Due to the updraft caused by the city heat, the light flakes drifted upwards against our window.  I sat, mouth agape, watching until the lightening sky indicated that the sun was rising behind the flat, grey bank of clouds.  Not knowing about updrafts and wind patterns and the general lightness of snow, I marveled at how completely separated I was from the world that I knew.  Here was a land of brightly flashing light, where even the weather moved differently.  In that very moment, I felt so alone and insignificant, but so interested and curious about this great new world I was visiting.