Home, part 1: Getting out of Japan

As I mentioned, back in July I had a nasty bout with homesickness. Right after Christmas, I came back from home reasonably confident I could make it a full year without visiting home. Needless to say, that confidence dried up pretty fast. I decided pretty quickly that I desperately needed to go home before Christmas. I didn't have enough vacation time left on my first contract, so I had to wait until my new contract started in August. I tried making it work so that I'd be home for the tail end of July, to be home for my mom's birthday and my parents' anniversary, but that didn't work out. I ended up planning a trip that guaranteed I'd be home for my sister's birthday, August 17.

When I was in college, I'd come home for the summertime and head back to Athens around the first week of August to be back in time for classes. After college, I started working at Inoko, and being one of only two managers for most of my time there kept me from taking too much time off. I hadn't realized it, but it's been eight years since I've been around for Heather's birthday.

I threw together the trip at the beginning of July: two weeks, departing 8/15, returning 8/31. I thought about tacking on an extra stopover in Georgia, like I did for Christmas, but it's just too freaking expensive. I love and miss all my friends and family in Georgia, but I just couldn't do it this time.

I'd planned to take the first flight out on the morning of the 15th. However, the forecast called for a 50% chance of rain that morning. Ever since my flight to Fukuoka got cancelled on account of fog, I've been a little paranoid when it comes to getting off Tsushima. That in mind, I decided to fly out the night before. (I later found out the morning flight went off without a hitch. Oh, well.)

I checked in at Fukuoka with no problem, and the connection to Nagoya was uneventful. I'd write about Nagoya, but I know nothing about the city, except that its airport is fine. Better than Taipei's.

In Fukuoka, when I checked in for the Nagoya-San Francisco flight, the lady cheerfully informed me that I'd been upgraded to business class at no extra charge. I had no idea what that meant: I don't really pay attention to the front of the plane when I get on, because I'm convinced that walk is designed to make us disappointed with mere economy class. She told me that, in addition to the cushy seats, I'd get to visit their Super Fancy Executive Lounge prior to boarding in Nagoya.

The lounge was every bit as Super Fancy as advertised, with its own little elevator connecting it to the terminal floor, free wireless internet, and an open snack bar. The flight to San Francisco was delayed an hour, but that didn't worry me--I had planned on exactly that, and had made sure my connections had two- or three-hour layovers.

When I finally got on the plane, I couldn't believe how much different the service was. The actual seats were bigger and cushier, but that didn't really impress me much. The in-flight movie on-demand screens were the same size as in economy, so no points there. The service, though, was mind-blowing. They fed us what must have been six times on a nine-hour flight. We had normal pretzel/peanut snacks three times, a bigger snack once, and two huge meals. The dinner meals (prime rib!) had three courses, and while they were just as "meh, not bad" as economy meals, you were left stuffed. Breakfast was the same quality, but the portions were freaking huge. Maybe having been in Japan for eight months made them look even bigger, but still. Oh, and they let you have all you wanted to drink, including booze. Considering the upgrades from economy to business, I'm convinced first-class has a buffet and an ice cream bar.

All that food being thrown at me left me wondering how much money airlines spend on this stuff. In terms of inventory and handling, they purchase the materials, heat the meals, and take care of the garbage. All that extra food and drink takes up space and--more importantly--weight on the plane. Though I resent it, I understand their need to one-up the economy service wherever possible, but surely they can find portions smaller than Glutton and Heifer to satisfy their first- and business-class passengers.

Anyway, I gained twelve pounds from in-flight meals. The movie selection was pretty piddly, especially considering how eager I was to gobble up any American culture I could find after an eight-month hiatus. I did find a good one involving George Clooney and the beginnings of American football. After giving up on movies, I moved on to reading. I'd brought Order of the Phoenix with me, and though not the wisest choice for portable reading-on-the-go material, it's still a great book. (This was my second time reading it, and I think I was too harsh on it after the first time. It's a really good book, and I confused being annoyed by Umbridge with a poor story, when I'm pretty sure that in fact Rowling deliberately made parts of the book awkward and embarrassing.)

After reading for a while with the same kind of overhead light they give you in economy, I noticed a little black reading light attached to the side of the seat. I pulled it out and tried to turn it on, but failed miserably. Keenly aware of the lady sitting next to me, and trying desperately to pretend I knew what I was doing, I had to put it back and give the impression I'd decided to stick to the overhead light. The lady next to me (who for all I knew had been upgraded from economy just like me and was trying just like me to look like she belonged) eventually used hers, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as she twisted a little knob at the end. Still ashamed that I'd been thwarted by a twisty piece of plastic, I waited a minute to make it look like I'd independently decided to use my reading light too, and easily turned it on. Triumphant, I plowed through about 300 pages of the book.