This feels almost surreal.
Packing seemed to take forever. I kept my bags open till the very last minute, just in case I had forgotten to put something in and if I did, I had to figure out where to fit it. As it is, I had forgotten the Swiss army knife my dad had given me to bring. :x Otherwise, I think I have with me now everything I had intended to bring. I cracked a bit at the very last minute of packing, with sudden tears streaming down, and I had to stop myself so that I can go back to thinking rationally and recall things I may have forgotten. We arrived at the airport Monday night with little time to spare for check-in, when my dad asked me whether I had the key to my bag. No, I didn't. It was incredibly idiotic of me to have forgotten, I knew exactly where in my room I had left it even. I could see the expression on my dad's face and I kept thinking to myself, "Great, I haven't even left, and I'm already messing up". Mum said I looked really pale as I waited for my aunt who came to visit before we left and was, fortunately, still at my house. She had to come now, we urged. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to open 2 of my 3 bags. She managed to reach the airport in time, with awesome driving skills as she managed it in the least amount of time it would logically take. And off the plane went, with me, my mum and my dad, on the way to Japan.
As I got off the plane and stepped on the ground of the Land of the Rising Sun, I didn't feel any different. This might have been because as I reached, we were frantically looking for Takayuki-san, who was supposed to be waiting for my arrival to take me to my apartment. After perhaps half an hour, we managed to call his Japanese cell from my mum's Malaysian cell. He said that my place was a 10-minute walk from the station, so we agreed to walk, but we hadn't taken into consideration my heavy bags. Heavy that they are, because I packed for a life, compared to my parents' bags, which passed as hand luggages, and were packed for a trip. Panting heavily, we reached my place, which didn't look like much from the outside, and when we got to my room, it was not furnished yet. 4 in the afternoon, he said. At the time, it was probably just past 12. So, we decided to head to the hotel my parents would be staying in. Which was back at the station, where we came from. But it's alright, he says. If you like, we could go further ahead to another station and take the train back to the station we were at. Well, alright then. Reached the hotel and we all slept.
Past 6 and we decided to check my room. We had told Takayuki-san to leave the apartment key at the hotel lobby, but when we asked the staff, it was not there. Called the guy, and he rechecked with his other colleague who was supposed to have done. Turns out he was right there with us in the hotel lobby, trying to get the staff to keep the key for us. We walked to my place again, and found a little cozy room all ready, and which space was maximised to the point that having my parents in the room was too much. That night however, I slept with my parents at their hotel room as it would be easier for me to get to my school the next day for a level-check interview from the hotel, and my parents would be following along to see the school I would be studying Japanese at. We all overslept due to exhaustion of travelling the next morning and arrived at the school, after much difficulty looking for it, half an hour late. But it was alright, there were people still waiting for their turn for an interview, and I knew that there were people who haven't arrived yet even. I was so tired from travelling though, that I couldn't process my Japanese at my normal speed that I felt a bit slow. Hopefully, it went well. The written test was the next day. After a night's sleep at my place (just to try it out whilst my parents are still here, and I did not sleep well for some reason), I managed to keep a leveled head and did the test as I understood it. I finished early and decided to get to my area ward office to register myself so that I could open a bank account. That day was a funny day indeed. Because it was the last day my parents would be around, I wanted to get the necessary things done as soon as possible, and that included, first and foremost, opening a bank account. But they needed me to be registered as a resident at the local ward office. Which was a chore to find, as my parents were directed to the ward office of another area and was misled. Believing it was the right place, they went back to the hotel, and my dad decided to look for the nearest mosque and find out whether they had a halal meat store around that area, leaving my mum at the hotel to rest. Because I finished early after the written test that day, I gave my mum a ring, hoping I could get my parents to come with me to get myself registered. My mum happily told me she could, in fact, show me the way, and we could have it done before dad gets back. So we went, and we found out it was the wrong one, and I was worried for my mum because she can't walk too much else her knees would start to hurt. But I had to push her, I'm so sorry Ma. ;_; We managed to get a temporary slip of my registration to open a bank account that day, and we nipped back to the hotel, got my dad who had gotten back, and went for a bank hunt. Which was not too bad despite the a-little-less-than-2 hours we had left before the banks closed, because the banks were all bunched together near the hotel. BUT. The first bank we went wouldn't accept the temporary slip, they needed the proper registration card AND even with that, I could only open the account after 6 months. 6 months? I would starve to death before that because I would have no money. I could've kept it with me, of course. For 6 months. Out in the open to be taken from vulnerable me. No way my dad was letting that happen if he could help it. So after much time wasted in the first bank, we asked where the next bank was and as we entered the second bank, we immediately asked about it, and they also said I had to stay here for at least 6 months before I would be able to open an account. I was getting worried (and a little mad) because I was told at the first bank that it was Japan law for a foreigner to have stayed at least 6 months before opening an account. We knew we had very little time left, so we quickly asked where the next bank was. Third time's the charm it seemed, as they happily told us we could open it today. I was deliriously happy. We were the last few to get out of the bank as it closed while we were there. Did some last minute shopping for household stuffs for me, back to the hotel, and I slept. Dead tired.
My parents left this morning at 7:10. I slept at their hotel last night so that I could walk them to the bus. I hugged them repeatedly until the very last minute before they boarded the bus that was headed towards the airport. I had the welcoming ceremony to attend to after that. That finished early as well, so I went back home, stopped by at the store for some more stuffs. Switched my laptop on and the neighbour's wireless was not password encrypted. So I'm here, typing out my story. I hope to get my own internet soon. I apologise for the lack of emotions, I'm just dead tired. I keep waiting for someone to open my door and ask me for something, like how everyone at home used to do (except my dad). I think I miss that already.
ruzzyx. Both journals will be opened, but this journal mostly for friends (hence, it is more or less friend-locked) and the other for the public. Thanks.
