Day Twenty: Inner Me

They should design hotels with stupid people in mind. Maybe a nice big sign reading “You are on ___ floor”.

I say this because on the way down to breakfast today, I got lost in the hotel. It started off just fine. I got into the elevator and pushed the button for the first floor. When the elevator stopped, I got out and passed some people who were getting in. I walked out of the little elevator area with confidence, but then stopped in confusion. The first floor looked exactly like my floor, right down to the weird turns in the hallway. I figured the lobby was at the end of one of the halls.

I was wrong. I started to panic, but I forced it down because there was someone from the elevator in the hallway as well. I went around the corner and pressed myself against the wall to hide. After he’d gone into his room, I crept over to the elevator. I figured that I could give it another shot.

I got in, and pushed the button for floor one. To my surprise, the elevator started going down. It stopped after one floor and I got off again. I started to look for the lobby, because this floor looked the same too. When I couldn't find it, I tried the elevator again.

Once again, it let me go down, and that was when I looked up and realized why. I’d been on the third floor. Finally making it to the lobby was a relief. How awkward would it have been to call the front desk and tell them I was lost?

The visit today that took the longest was to a plant that took coal and refined it. The workers there were pretty fluent in English, which meant they asked me questions. Some of the earlier question/answer things went like this:

Worker: “What is your favorite school subject? Science?”

Me: Fudgesicles.

Inner Me:  Lie. Wait! Tell the truth, they can smell lies. No! Lie anyway.

Me: “English.”

Inner Me: What are you doing?!

Me: “I’m not very good at science.”

Inner Me: Shut up! Shut up right now before you dig a deeper hole!

Me: “I've taken a little bit of Chemistry and Physics though.”

Inner Me: Saying that is like trying to fix a broken arm with a Dora-the-Explorer bandage. Completely useless at this point!

Worker: “What are your favorite anime?”

Me: Oh crap. My mind just went totally blank. Kaichou Wa Maid-sama? No, too romantic. Plus I’m not entirely sure that I know what the name means. Shugo Chara? Too girly. Shoot, they’re looking expectant.

“Oh, you know… Naruto.”

Inner Me: Dude! You only watched like twenty episode of that!

Me: “And, um, Bleach.”

Inner Me: Again, only one hundred episodes out of three hundred! And why are you only listing the popular ones? It doesn't matter if they don’t know what you’re talking about!

After listening to the workers talk to Otosan for a bit, we went out for an actual tour. One of the workers gave a running commentary of everything we went passed, telling me what it was and sometimes random facts about it.

Worker: “That can lift ten tons.”

Me: “Wow, that’s a lot.” Is it? I hope that was the right thing to say.

Worker: "Those heat the coal to over one thousand degrees Celsius."
Me: "Whoa, that is really warm."
Inner Me: You really need to develop a larger vocabulary. 

The bad stuff started happening when they asked for my questions.

Worker: “Do you have any questions?”

Inner Me: Why didn't you prepare for this? Quick, look around and see if there’s anything you can ask a question about.

Me: “What material is that made out of?”

Inner Me: It’s a start…

Making a conscious effort to be more involved (what was I supposed to say when he answered most of my questions with his explanations?), I am proud to say that I thought up a question all by myself.

Me: “What’s that?”

Inner Me: Oh good. A question without being prompted. You should be set for a few more minutes.

At least, that was what my inner me thought.

Worker: “Do you have any questions?”

Inner Me: Okay, don’t panic. I know we didn't anticipate this. Just take a moment to thi-

Me: “What’s that?”

Inner Me: I have nothing to say to you.

At the end of the tour, we returned to the office. I relaxed, thinking they knew everything they needed to know. But, again, I was wrong.

Worker: “So, what did you think of our plant?”

Me: Guys, seriously! I need time to prepare!

“Um, well it seems like you make a lot of important stuff.”

Inner Me: That was terrible! Think faster!

Me: “You know, in today’s society…”

Inner Me: They’re just staring at you! Try a different approach! Fast!

Me: “It’s really big.” *Nervous laugh*.

Inner Me: Really? That was all you could come up with? Oh. They’re laughing. And the small-town-girl card strikes again.

Me: That other guy is talking.

Inner Me: Yes. Good job. You’re safe.

In case anyone was wondering why I said they make important stuff, I said that because the refined coal is used for making things such as batteries, brakes, golf clubs, etc. Unfortunately, I misplaced the booklet they gave me, so it may take me a little bit to track down the name of the plant. I’ll go back and edit this once I remember.

Then, for reasons still unclear to me, our new friends took us out for udon noodles. During the drive there, I was furiously scribbling away in my notebook so I would remember the questions and my thought processes when I wrote this. When the worker who’d given me the tour noticed, he said:

Worker: “You are a good student.”

Me: “Huh?”

Worker: *Gestures to my notebook.* “Very dedicated.”

Me: “Oh…yes…dedicated…that’s me…” Not a chance that I’ll let you see a page. I think you can read English.

The udon was delicious. I couldn't eat it very fast though. Each mouthful took so much concentration so that I didn't drop the food, splash, choke, or all three. Towards the end of the meal, the same worker had another misconception about me (a common one, I’m sure. One can hardly blame him for thinking this):

Worker: “You are good with chopsticks.”

Me: “Oh, thank you.”

Inner Me: Ha-ha. Yeah. That’s what he thinks.

For whatever reason, we stopped at a gas station prior to being dropped off at the station. While we were waiting for the train, I made the probably questionable decision to tell Otosan about a Japanese horror story I knew because he’d never heard it before. It wasn't until after the final bit was out of my mouth that it began to occur to me what an atrocious impression I must be creating.

Serina’s Outer Personality: Quiet girl who likes cute animals and daydreams a lot.

Serina’s Inner Personality: Violent, disturbed child with a penchant for monsters and a thirst for blood.

After the incident as I sat there drinking some random drink, I realized there was a bright side to being unable to read Japanese: There was no way for me to read the ingredient’s list.

As a general rule, I avoid reading the ingredient’s list because I don’t like knowing what disgusting things they've put in my food, but sometimes, I can’t help myself. This way, I have no choice. I can’t read it, I can’t gross myself out.

But thinking of a bright side to something mostly negative made me want to find a dark side to something positive. That is to say, Japan. After a thoughtful moment, I decided that the downside was my sense of humor being absorbed into the atmosphere. No one speaks English fluently enough to see what a riot I am! Sometimes I say things that I think are pretty clever! But no one sees how clever they are because no one understands!!!

Poor me.

My pity-party of one didn't last long. The train finally came and took us back to the hotel. The visit to the plant and talking to our new friends afterwards had taken most of the day. We went to Okayama-jo itself this time. I was still disappointed over the fact that the Prince didn't live there any longer, but I made the best of it. Towards the end of our visit, I got separated from Otosan and Okasan. Again, this separation didn't really bother me, so I just got into the elevator and pressed the button for floor one. I got off when it stopped and watched three businessmen file passed me into the elevator. I started walking, and stopped. For the third time in one day, I’d ended up on the wrong floor. Annoyed, I summoned the elevator and checked the first floor, but Okasan wasn't there anymore. I decided to try the fourth floor, which was the last place I’d seen Otosan.

When I got off, there were the businessmen. This sort of defeated the point of pretending I’d had the right floor earlier, and I think they suspected I’d lost someone. Otosan wasn't there, so I just slipped into a corner and wrote more notes in my notebook until they left.

Then I rode the elevator back down feeling apprehensive. My inner me kept me company by saying things like:  The awkwardness will increase by ten percent should you run into them again, as the only things you've been seen doing are scribbling in your notebook and riding the elevator. Maybe pick nose for variety.

Luckily, they weren't there but Okasan was, and we promptly left for dinner.

That night, I had a sudden and unexplainable craving for grape juice. I don’t know how it happened; I just know that I was going to die without it. I grabbed my little change-carrier that I’d purchased in Himeji, and left the room without grabbing any shoes.

So there I was running down the hallway in my socks with my little change-carrier feeling really awesome and mature because I totally knew where I was going this time. I reached the door to the drinks room, started to open it, and stopped when I realized there was someone else in there. In a panic over the possibility of him seeing me, I turned and sprinted back to my room waving my arms around in the sky for a reason I no longer recall while praying that he didn't come out and see me running away like a deranged monkey.

I waited a couple of minutes before creeping out and heading back. He was gone this time, so I walked in to look at the drinks. I had a craving for grape juice. But there was no grape juice. I leaned against the wall and frowned, wondering if I could satisfy myself with another fruity beverage.

And that’s when I felt a tickling sensation on my head. I ignored it at first, but it persisted. It sort of felt like someone was running their hand over the tiny hairs that stand up on the top of your head. In precise timing with the bang of the machine, I leaped back with the grace of a startled frog and clapped a hand to my head.

Thankfully, it wasn't some sort of scary Japanese spirit occurrence, just a vent over my head. But this made me realize that I wouldn't be satisfied with the other drink, and I needed that grape drink now. Going back to the room again, I grabbed my shoes, my room key and my cell phone (because who knew how long I’d have to search) and headed out into the night. I nearly wet myself when I pulled the key card out of its slot before I had the door open, and the lights went out on me, but I recovered and made my way to the lobby. Then I nearly ran into a glass wall when I couldn't remember where the doors were, and it looked like a door, and because I didn't want to look unsure and loose more dignity, I barreled straight towards it. Fortunately, someone chose that moment to use the real door (which is wooden and not even close to glass) and the movement caught my eye, saving me.

I went outside and headed right for the first vending machine I saw. It didn't have what I wanted, so I started to turn a corner, but stopped to frame a yellow board with my hand in the hopes of it serving as a landmark. Luck had it that I glanced down, and there was another vending machine with a giant grape drink. Karma was clearly rewarding me for my diligence.

Lesson of the day: Don’t tell nice Japanese families horror stories about their countries. You’ll only regret it later.