Japan
Kon’nichiwa. The time reaching Japan was short, two days of sailing. The sea filled with nostalgia as we were headed to our last overnight port. I had spent time planning routes of adventure, that would start the moment we docked in Kobe Japan.
Stepping foot on land, I explored the streets filled with 24 hour ramen shops and 7/11’s, but as I looked forward, mountains were being hugged by trees in full color. With friends in tow, we turned to bring our feet with every step out of the city and into the rolling hills. We reached a park on top of the mountain. There were shops lined with Christmas cheer. By chance, we met some of our professors; one decided to ditch and join us on a mellow walk back down to the streets. We stopped to enjoy each other’s company in the afternoon sun as we painted. We took every chance to watch a river roll, and birds flutter. Reminding ourselves that, that the only place we had to be was present. The streets greeted us with a 7/11, where our first game of 7/11 roulette was played (the first of many). It goes like this, pick a food item attempt to translate it via pictures, give it a try, and hope for the best. We slowly walked down allies packed full of buildings and neon lights back to the ship to enjoy dinner together.
The morning brought brisk weather. Thumbing through a book, I found a town littered with small-town charm and sand-dunes. Making a route with trains of all sizes, three friends and I made it. We dropped our bags at a hostel rented bikes with bells and baskets. We rode through the hills until we reached a museum made entirely out of sand, it featured iconic landmarks of non-other than the United States. We walked through, realizing our country was loved. We watched people around staring in awe, living out their own American dream. We felt like foreigners in our own country, yet we were comforted by the perception.
We learned the small town had an affinity for pears. Therefore, the snack of choice became clear. Pears in our bags, we set our eyes on the dunes across the way. Running free legged down the tall dunes is only worth it after the climb up. We shared the pears in the wind, blowing sand added texture to every bite. The contrasting blue ocean below was captivating. I ran down, leaving everyone at the top. Joy washed over me, and soon everyone joined in. As the sunset, we peddled through tunnels screaming to hear our voice echo as our dim bike lights bounce against the walls.
Trains took us to Kyoto in search of understanding the countries history. Walking through orange shrines by the thousands, I didn’t understand anything except a sense of importance. There were candles lit, paper ordained with words in the shape of characters. They held meaning to others there; for a moment, they had a shallow meaning to us. We could only sense the written words. We exited to something we understood a bit more... street food.
Warming ourselves up in the train station, we filled up on every flavor of Hi-Chew while we laid on the floor laughing, enjoying our youth. Next, we walked into a forest looking up, blue sky, laced with plush bamboo treetops. The thousands of shoots were a sign of humility as they redefined youths age bracket. Before we hopped on another train, we took time to play frivolously on a children’s playground. Then, we navigated to yet another town and rounded out the night with authentic ramen.
The following day we walked around Universal Studios Japan. We sang Christmas songs and rode costers time and time again as lines were mighty short. The energy was vibrant and full of life. Little did we know we were preparing ourselves to re-enter the states. The scene was set US postal boxes, traditional Christmas songs and, hot chocolate. Yet again, foreign familiarity washed over us. We left walking past Universal Studios’ iconic spinning globe. That was it, my last night on foreign soil as a Semester at Sea student. I watched it spin; at the time, it was surreal. I saw all the countries and oceans I had spent months living in, go-round. Soon I would say I circumnavigated that world.
The next day was simple yet blissful, filled with food, trains, and long walks. I relished the walk home, knowing the days ahead would be filled with the open ocean. As the ship pulled away, I stood in the cold, pressed against the railing, watching land become distant behind. The next time I exited the gangway, it would be on US soil.
