Ichi Ni San Shi Go! Go! Go! Go!

Now that I am in Japan and have found somewhere I can actually access the internet (one of those all-in-one media centres, next to a video games store, up some stairs in a shopping arcade, one train stop away from Mukaijima station), I can update my blog with my actions over the past week.

My flight finally got into the air an hour after its original departure time due to an aeroplane traffic jam, but Emirates offers fine in-flight entertainment, with touch screen access to games, music, information, movies, TV shows and the like. One of the coolest features was a front and downward camera, enabling you to see where you were flying over and, during take-off and landing, replicate the Krypton Factor’s simulator test. I decided to spend my 6 hours to Dubai watching the blockbusters of the year that I missed, namely Mission: Impossible III(ludicrous spy action, but a step-up from John Woo’s number 2) and X-Men: The Last Stand (graceless stupid nonsense, but I’m no real fan of the first two).

Flying into Dubai at night was an amazing experience. Looking out the window, the ground below was pitch black save for orange and white streetlights highlighting the road network like veins of LEDs. The only way to differentiate between land and sea were reflections in the water – otherwise, it would have looked like a city built across glowing bridges designed using Tomy’s Lights Alive. Dubai Airport was itself a work of impressive design, mixing Islamic architecture with modern features (particularly the big metal UFOs with flashing lights suspended from the ceiling).

My 9-hour flight into Kansai was mostly taken up with sleep. I still had a sore throat, headaches and stomach pains, so it was good to get some shuteye. Though I did go through every UK No. 1 single and played a few classics (namely Shakespeare’s Sister’s ‘Stay’ and ‘The Only Way Is Up’ by Yazz). Once I got to the airport, I queued up for immigration only to be sent to the back of the queue – it seems everyone else was given a disembarkation card on the plane except me. Finally got through, picked up my luggage which had been unceremoniously dumped off the conveyer belt and went to locate the JR Haruka Express to take me to Kyoto station. I phoned up the Doshisha University International Centre to let them know I was coming.

The cleaning ritual of the express train upon arrival was not too dissimilar to that bestowed upon the Shinkansen when I came to Japan last. Cleaners board the car, making it as spick and span as possible, rotating the seats to face the direction of travel as they go, then bow and get off. As the train pulls out, they stand at the end of the platform waving, and no-one notices. Perhaps my British cynicism will eventually win over and I’ll regard these twee attitudes to customer service with the same ambivalence as everyone else, but for the moment it seems too bizarrely nice for me to disregard what these employees are forced to do through gritted teeth. The train zips through Osaka, passing Capcom and Ban Dai HQs along the way (plus a pachinko parlour every 500m), and arrives in Kyoto a little late (for shame).

The student volunteer who comes to meet me is a guy called Kenta, who’s English is better than my Japanese, but still patchy. He says my Japanese is good, but I think we both know that’s just meaningless flattery. Lugging the bags around in the humid evening is getting a bit too much, so we get into a taxi and head off to Mukaijima Gakusei Center in Fushimi-ku. Arriving at the hall of residence, a security guard comes out to give me my welcome pack, and we go to my room. In a mix of Japanese and English, Kenta and I chat about football (I’ve been invited to play with him and his friends in a game on the 25th – he assures me that he’s just as bad as I am, but David Beckham seems to be his point of reference, so he’s bound to be disappointed when I take my first kick). He’s also keen to know about regional accents, particularly in reference to Pirates of the Caribbean, and how and why Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom speak differently. Apparently, dropping in a few bits of old-fashioned slang is quite popular (his word of choice is “Savvy?” – which is very cool).

I’m left to unpack in my very spacious, wide, clean room, with more storage space than I will ever probably need. It’s Room 1017, which is on the furthest corner of the top floor, so I get some great views of the night sky into the distance. After a look around, I bump into Asiri from Sri Lanka who’s been at the Centre for 2 years (and in Japan 3 years), studying a phD in engineering (something to do with building foundations and such), a nice guy who will be the one to turn to should I have any problems settling in. After a sort out and quick unpacking (my laptop screen works intermittently, which is a bit unnerving, but now seems fine), I have a shower and hit the sack. Takes a while getting to sleep – my GMT body clock says its only 4 in the afternoon. Plus this futon beanbag pillow is very uncomfortable, and my refrigerator makes a noise that sounds like a boiling cauldron and a downpour simultaneously...

Part 2 Coming Soon!