September 16, 2007

  • Happenstance

    The less said about my pack-laden, self-pitying journey to Ueno the better; once I was on the Keisei Express all was forgotten. Riding the Keisei Express to Narita airport has become one of my favorite rituals. The ample baggage space, the legroom, and the perennially half empty trains conspire to make the hour plus ride intensely relaxing, especially when you figure in the view, which is lovely. Northern Tokyo fades into Chiba in faint degrees, from high buildings, to short, and finally into the inevitable rice fields, which neatly mark the seasons in their height and colour. I put on my favorite playlist and stare out of the window until I fall asleep, but wake up well before the the train reaches the airport. I almost don't want to leave. The obscene amount of legroom has spoiled me for any plane ride. But leave I do, at Narita Terminal 2 which, as I found out, is the far inferior, dark and old-looking terminal that houses all the obscure airlines. My flight to the Solomon Islands was Air Niugini, transiting at Paupa New Guinea. I guess that applies.

    I walked over to counter K with a vague sense of foreboding. Even from a distance I could see several long, completely stationary lines. I tried to walk past it, saw from a sign at the front that it was indeed for my flight, and had to walk back to the end in a way that people who stand in lines always find totally gratifying and annoying at once. Yeah, thats right, back of the line, lady. On my way back, I saw an oddly familiar bearded figure. I stared for a second, blinked once, and told myself I must be mistaken.

    At the end of the line I joined an older woman with short blond hair and the Africanesque clothing that all older women seem to wear when they have taken an interest in another country. Being two foreigners in one improbable country and headed for another we began chatting. She was working as a missionary in Paupa New Guinea and I was visiting a friend in the Solomons.
    "Oh really?"
    "Yeah, she was born there and her mom is from there. She just finished school and... and that's Sean Lennon."
    The bearded figure had walked away from the line and on his way back I got a good, unmistakable look at his face.
    "Oh, really?" The woman asked, only slightly interested.
    "Yeah, I recognize his girlfriend too."
    "Hm."

    Its far too embarrassing to rehash every tiny detail of the following 10 hours. Suffice it to say that the horrific line in which myself and the son of John Lennon and Yoko Ono were standing in was the inevitable result of Air Niugini not having paid the lease on their planes, and therefore not really having one that evening. We were all of us bussed off to a hotel and in the resulting flurry of the fellow expat "Ugh-can-you-believe-this" camaraderie, I was able to chat with him a while.

    I should explain that I'm not just enamored of the last name. My friend Mig introduced me to the album "Friendly Fire" this January, and I listened to it non-stop for about a month and a half. Its still one of my favorites. And, a couple weeks before all this happened I'd gone to see him at Summer Sonic. It was a great little show on the beach in Chiba. He was pretty much the only reason I'd gone to the festival. Well, him and Bright Eyes. So, yeah, I was excited.

    The next morning at 4:30 we were all bussed back to Narita only to wait there for several more hours. As everyone else was boarding I realized I hadn't been given a proper boarding pass the night before. I quick-stepped back to the counter and they told me that, actually, I wasn't getting back on the plane with everybody else. It was faster, they said, to wait until that night and fly to Brisbane, and then to the Islands. They put me up in another hotel for the day, and told me to make sure I was back in time for my flight.

    I had to temper being pissed off with being relieved. After all, I hadn't wanted to fly while I was sick, and now I had an extra day to recover. Besides, meeting one of the few famous people I'd actually care to meet somehow made the whole trip feel ordained. I thought about how I'd nearly postponed my trip a week and smiled. It was all an adventure. I spent the day sleeping, abusing the ghastly internet consoles, adventuring out to the neighbouring 7-11, and watching some truly awful TV shows. Then I got up, took a bus to the airport, waited in one line after another, and before I knew it I was on a plane to Australia.