From one fault line to the next

For an unusually clear day, the Bay looked majestic from 20,000 feet. I took it all in and watched the Bay Bridge, Baker Beach, Golden Gate Park and everyone I know in that 7x7 slice of west coast drift further into my periphery until I was clear over the Pacific.

A few hours into the flight, turbulence woke me and I took another look out the plane window. This time, nothing familiar. Perhaps it was the uneasiness of the ride, but suddenly my stomach jumped to my throat and my heart sunk. This was me panicking. It was an uproar insi

de, but I sat still in my seat while a cold sweat started to envelop my body. It dawned on me for the first time what was actually happening. 

In about 6 hours I would land in a country that I've never been to before, didn't speak the language and knew no one there. I tried to take a deep breath and imagine how wonderful this experience would be, but my panic was full blown and trapped on a vessel headed straight for the unknown.

Final destination: The Land of the Rising Sun. Japan. A country laden with rich tradition and even further steeped in modern technological innovation. An anomaly in itself and one of the most revered and mysterious cultures of the far east. And now, I call it home.

My first week was in Osaka where I trained at the headquarters of my new company. Coupled with a fresh batch of "gaijin"- or foreigners- from Whales, Calgary, Chicago and (coincidentally) Oakland, we shared sentiments of being newly acquired outsiders. The few hours we had free, we explored Umeda and Namba, popular and populated districts that boast an eventful nightlife with karaoke aplenty. 

I have been distracted by what reminds me of some sort of post-apocalyptic nightmare. Imagine if Ridley Scott directed a new Blade Runner, the Japanese version. In the first few days upon arriving in Osaka, there were nearly 100 cases of influenza reported in the Kansai region. 

Either motivated by fear or enforced by work, everyone was wearing medical face masks to "protect" themselves from the onslaught of a global pandemic. Of course, our company issued said masks to each of us, strictly instructing us to wear them on our commute to and from work. I was also ordered by the federal health department to take my temperature twice daily for 10 days because I had just arrived in the country. I certainly was aware of the stereotype that many Japanese people are meticulous with detail and precautionary with health measures, but this was overkill.

Nonetheless, the distractions of a brave new world was far greater than the inability for someone to venture online and realize that these masks have no real preventative abilities to keep someone from contracting a curable, airborne disease. 

But I d.i.g.r.e.s.s...

Osaka-jo was an afternoon excursion to the restored castle originally built in the 1500's. I found the courtyard in front of Osaka-jo more riveting than the sham of a structure itself. 

A leashed pet piglet, 

a sea of yellow-capped school children, 

and my first taste of tacoyaki were among the highlights.

The view from the top of Osaka-jo was an excellent panoramic of the city.

Still in a jet-lagged haze, the first week passed in the blink of an eye. I anticipated the send off to my branch in Akashi and would hopefully overcome my slight fear of getting lost on the trains. Fortunately, my manager came to Osaka and helped me make it to Akashi. 

A few days later, I was back in Osaka for follow-up training and after what seemed like the longest day, I managed to make it to the train station on my own and on my way to my new home in Akashi. 

I stood on the train platform and waited anxiously, constantly checking the train listing to make sure that I was in the right place. A woman was standing near me and I noticed her staring for a moment or two. 

She called out to me and motioned for me to come toward her. She grabbed my arm and asked, "Where do you want to go?" I told her Akashi and she gently pulled me in front of her, explaining in gestures that this was the line to get on the train. When the train arrived, she sat next to me and opened her purse and pulled out her face mask and said, "influenza," questioning whether I knew about the severity of this situation.  I nodded and pulled my issued mask out of my bag. 

I put it on for the first time ever and had the biggest smile behind my mask the whole way home.