Dawn in Tokyo
We arrived at Tokyo’s Narita
International Airport at about 7:31 in the morning. The sky was dark, covered in clouds with our
approach, so I could not see the city as we started to descend. I remember sitting, peering out the window to
try to catch a glimpse of anything.
Eventually, I saw lights, pale blue-white like an expanse of stars
beneath me. They drew closer and closer
with the ground, until we were swallowed up by them as the plane touched
down.
The process of customs is
somewhat lost to me in the intervening time between touch down and leaving the
Airport. We were brisk in our pace;
after all we had a specific bus to catch that would take us to our
accommodations. The first thing I
noticed when we got down was the faces of people, flat and quiet Japanese
people. It was a veritable sea in which
foreigners such as myself and my parents were islands. The second thing, of course, was the
language. There was Japanese everywhere,
but there was also helpful English sporadically spaced around the Japanese as a translation. These were harbingers of things to come, and
as we boarded a crowded taxi-bus the three of us were crammed together on a
bench with our luggage nestled above us. It was a snug fit, but we managed.
I was ecstatically excited,
though obviously exhausted. I sat right
next to the window as we departed for the fourty-five minute drive into Tokyo
proper. Coming into the city was
extraordinary. Every building seemed to
be made of shimmering glass, smooth and polished. The windows glowed bright with lights,
high rises and apartments melding with upscale business towers. Here and there were displays of strange
fruits or services. Happy faces of Japanese people gathered around weird little
symbols or animal mascots. At one point, we passed under a bridge with a huge Ferris wheel known as the Tokyo Eye. I was reminded of my childhood and gazing out
on the twinkling lights of Los Angeles.
It was like drifting into a carnival of lights and colors, of strange
and exotic things. It was like the light of dawn slid gracefully over the shadows of the structures and people, shimmering over glass like it was water.
Above this all loomed the huge
Tokyo Skytree, a shimmering spire rising 2080.05 feet in the air. It’s the tallest building in Japan, second tallest in the world, and it would
dominate the skyline in many of our visits to other places around the
city. Looking at it while I was there, I thought it an ugly looking thing. It seemed like spiders' webs strung together over a cylinder with two mushrooms at the top. I've since changed my opinion, but I will get into that later. We never ascended it, but the
sheer awesome presence of the tower was a constant reminder.
At last we pulled up to the Hotel Okura in Minato Ward of Tokyo. The hotel itself was old and fabled long before we arrived there. Situated next to the American Consulate, it has a history of hosting dignitaries of all kinds in its long tenure and is centrally located in the city to allow us access to everywhere we wanted to go.
At last we pulled up to the Hotel Okura in Minato Ward of Tokyo. The hotel itself was old and fabled long before we arrived there. Situated next to the American Consulate, it has a history of hosting dignitaries of all kinds in its long tenure and is centrally located in the city to allow us access to everywhere we wanted to go.
The Main Lobby of the Okura, notice the huge water pool, this is a giant Ikebana (flower arrangement)
Smaller Ikebana on the reception desk
The Okura has a certain 60’s
charm to its lobby though that is not to say it seems dated. It has warm tones and a soft traditional
Japanese style. It feels like walking
into a tea room, with a huge floral display in the center and papered windows
in the back. The tone of the room is
subdued, voices never rising much more than a murmur in any one place. Walking into it, we were greeted by finely
dressed women in beautiful kimonos who bowed to us and ushered us to the
counter.
My Room
I have to say that the English of
almost everyone we meet in Japan was extraordinary. The people at the hotel were prompt, and
seemed genuinely concerned with making us comfortable. I had a single king room with a plush bed,
huge bath and big shower, and I had to laugh and remark how very foreign it was
to have a toilet with heated seat. I
remembered my teacher in college, Mr. Abbot, explaining that no sensible
Japanese person did not have a heated toilet.
Futuristic was the best way to describe the thing, but thankfully using
it was provided with apt instructions for any poor foreigner such as I. The room had a door that adjoined to my
parents' , and a view of an office tower and some trees outside.
As I was unpacking, we received
our second surprise when there was a knock at the door. A young Japanese man entered with a rolling
tray and a large beautiful cake upon the tray. Scrolled across the surface was “Happy Birthday William.” I was shocked, as was my mother. We’d not expected such a thing. After all, my
birthday was in half a week. Obviously
the hotel had misunderstood when she’d explained we were coming for my birthday, but they’d gone to the trouble to make us a cake! The man was so kind, he wanted to sing and
light candles. We were all so taken
aback that we didn't want to impose upon him.
We dug into the thing, and it was as delicious as it tasted.
Our arrival day ended with me
laid out before the tv. I’d always heard
the amusement found in Japanese tv, and it was certainly bizarre. Eventually I conked out, resting comfortably
on the firm mattress.
