Does the luck hold up?

Well, I would say that you would not believe, but I think you would, knowing me...

You know how everyone was telling me "now Evan, don't miss your flight... Evan, make sure you make your flight... Remember to check your flight Evan..." Funny how you all jinxed me! I appreciate it, because of your constant recriminations, I missed my flight.

Apparently, the flight I was supposed to get on was a joint venture with ANA (acronym unknown) and United, and was scheduled to leave earlier than what my ticket said, this normally would not have been a problem, except for the fact that where my flight was supposed to be, was the exact same flight, on Japan Airlines... same plane, same destination, same departure time, everything, just two different terminals and a whole bunch of confused looks.

Imagine my surprise when the 4' 9" lady I just handed my ticket to comes running up to me, grabs me from where I'm about to set down my bag, and says in quick unintelligible English... "a;sldkfsjadf dafdsa asdflkj" and so I, quickly realizing that my only chance to get to Singapore is quickly fading away, attempt to shrink in the hopes she's got the wrong person. I think the only thing going for me was the feeling of dreamlike lucidity that had been pervading my entire trip so far... and with that hypnotic state in hand, I languidly ran after her with my once-heavy bag floating on my shoulder.

To my and their astonishment, I had somehow completed a 40 min walk to another terminal gate and departure zone, without one person stopping to question me at the multiple checkpoints why I had a United Airlines flight heading towards a domestic online carriers area. Naturally, I can not blame anyone but myself, because I also made the same error, but honestly folks, whats the deal, am I really the first person to become lost like this, it seemed like everyone I passed who looked at my ticket gave me a strange look (unbeknownst to me, never having seen strange Japanese looks until I was given the same look with knowledge of my error in hand), and then waved me on, it seems that once confronted with a dilemma never encountered before, all of these Japanese froze, thought, froze again, then waved me on. Only once I was on the wrong plane, all the way on, did they finally realize (to my detriment) their error, and then proceeded to freeze and try to think while holding up a flight I could have easily fit on if it happened to be in their procedure book. However, this is not to say I'm disappointed, I made the error, and cannot blame anyone else, and their customer service once they figured out a procedure, was very calming and helpful, its just too bad it took so long.

So longer story shorter, I get the same flight for the next day after some more confused looks (which I now recognize), and I set off for Narita to book up at a guesthouse. Still in a daze, this becomes difficult because, while I know where it is, I pass by the sign, maybe, roughly, approximately 7-8 times, confused bewildered, and angry, until finally I call the place again, talk to another confused soul who can't understand what the hell I'm thinking, and then walk a block, to find the guesthouse right next to the sign I had looked at every single time I passed by the block... Irritating to say the least.

Boring details of night... Boring details of night... Flat mattress, good sushi, good sushi, freaking good sushi! Tasted like roasted marshmellow that slid off your tongue, collapsed in your mouth with a taste of chocolate, all while managing to look like a dark oversized piece of birdshit. Delicious!

Get to bed early and wake up to the sounds of traffic buzzing past the guesthouse incessantly and I figure, shoot, there's so much traffic, I better get up before it gets too late, I might miss my flight... not much chance of that at 7am when my flights at 5:40pm, but I decide to stay up. After a little brushing up on my Japanese, I head out into the big blue world, and realize its only blue because its raining so hard, and its actually grey above that if you could look up for long enough to see the sky without getting water splashed in your eyes... so I head back in, steal an umbrella, and go for it, tourist map, camera, and notebook in hand. This is when I realized, in Japan, I think they make umbrellas to fit the Japanese... luckily, I did not feel like dry legs very much, and so was not perturbed by the sloshy feeling everywhere.

Now I must tell you, I did not expect to like Japan, everything so far was not so much a let down, but more, a simple satisfaction of low expectations. This was until I reached the temple, and finally found the solitude I needed to rest my soul after weeks of turmoil... This redemption of the luck I knew lay within, and perhaps its not so much luck as my inability to hold still while travelling, but by god, it was amazing (mom I got some pretty good pictures that i've been editting in photoshop, well not much, but I've been changing the raw settings as I convert them, and they've been turning out pretty good, I'll have to get your opinion though), these temples ranging in age from just a few years since being, to more than a millenium for the oldest.

I walk a few km in the rain, and thoroughly drenched, empty stomach (best to contemplate I think), find these temples I read about. Stunning. And in the first one I walked into I found monks performing a ritualistic offering of wood and fire to their Buddha to the spine-vibrating waves of massive drums, with keen whistling providing a backdrop to the monks' highpitched intonations. I don't know how to describe it in words, and I wish I would have recorded it on my mp3 player, which I started using later to describe things as a I wandered. And wandered did I, far and wide through manicured forests and along shallow manmade lakes, with immaculate 3 meter shrines hiding behind large cedars, choosing not to follow the path of their brothers, who often sat on rocks in shaded waters.

One of the next temples was a 100+ foot pagoda built in 1987 and dedicated by world leaders to the pursuit of international peace. I must tell you, the fearsome Buddha and his guards certainly made me think it was possible... I actually met my first other westerner while wandering around barefoot through this many muralled mirage of tapestried halls and high latticed ceilings. Shannon, this lady on her way back to Seattle from a five week stay in Vietnam, finally let me express some of the sensory overload bashing my brain into humbled submission. We talked and shared and had a fabulous go around for a quarter hour, and then departed our happy ways, content in the knowledge we were not the only ones astounded and impressed by the magnitude and beauty of these temple grounds... I can go on for awhile about these temples, but i need to get to Singapore.

I get there early, plenty of time, get more confused looks as I explain to the ticket lady my situation before she issues my ticket, and she still doesn't quite get it, and so put me in the class of people who don't give themselves enough time to get to their flight... and gave me specific directions and instructions about making all the way out to the gate, telling me how long it would take and pointing me in every direction... I'd hate to see the Japanese I dealt with given a real "out of the box" situation.

I help this girl get her luggage up above me, and it turns out she is a Poli Sci graduate like myself, getting her PHd from Princeton in Comparative Political and Techonology Transfer studies between major Asian economic states. She also did her undergrad in Int'l Relations, so we talked for most of the flight, well half the flight, then we both fell asleep until we were woken up by some turbulence doing its best to test the bolts on the wings. Hopefully we can stay in touch, although she's a little worried about my plans to become president coupled with my realpolitik slightly eye-for-an-eye political views.

I get into Singapore, and of course, low and behold, my reservation is gone at the hostel I planned to stay at, but I talked to this nice lady at the tourist office (the best tourist office I have ever visited) and she hooked me up, and as I'm about to grab a taxi, she waves me over, introduces me to the owner of the hostel who dropped my reservation, who took me in his car to my new hostel... craziness, he's pretty cool and loves Whistler too.