Tokyo Contact

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I joined my husband on a weeklong business trip the first time I traveled to Tokyo. It was a city he knew well after more than 25 visits, and in the weeks leading up to our trip he filled my head with intimidating images of a city and culture more foreign than I had ever imagined Tokyo to be. After listening to one story after another of undecipherable signs and strict social formalities, I boarded the plane bound for Narita International Airport feeling less of the adventurous confidence I usually had on journeys that added a new stamp to my passport.

As is usually the case when I’ve tried to create snapshots of an event that exists somewhere in the future, the actual experience was not nearly as intimidating as I’d envisioned. I spent my first day wandering around Ginza and Harajuku, two wildly different areas of Tokyo—one being Tokyo’s answer to Park Avenue, with high-end department stores and designer boutiques, the other ground zero for fashion forward teens parading their most daring ensembles. Despite all the misgivings I had before I began my first day of exploring, I felt totally at ease by the time lunch rolled around. I figured out the subway system without any catastrophic detours to other parts of Japan, and found the people helpful, polite and graceful in their own reserved way. This was true from sales clerks who delicately wrapped a single postcard, to taxi drivers who turned off their headlights when idling at stoplights. I remember feeling a strange wave of relief when I stumbled across a group of teenage girls squealing and giggling as they shopped for Hello Kitty knick-knacks. After so much quiet reserve and perfect composure, seeing these mirror images of my awkward, high-strung, seventh-grade self was a welcome sight.