"The Layover" Essay - Narrative & Descriptive

“The Layover”

As we landed in Tokyo, Japan at Narita Airport after an 11 ½ flight, my fiancé Eric and I were thrilled to touch down. The flight from San Francisco to Japan was not entirely pleasant. Flying economy class on a NWA Airbus A330 aircraft, a wide-bodied plane with four seats in the center and two seats on each side separated by aisles we were seated smack in the middle. Being we were surrounded by people on all sides made for an extremely uncomfortable, long and cramped flight. The flight would turn out to be a much better experience then the 17 hour layover in Japan.
Eric and I had so many thoughts as we gathered our belongings to get off the aircraft and begin our layover. This was our first time being in another country, so far from home. It was very exciting yet nerve racking for both of us. Although we were exhausted and extremely hungry, we wanted to first find where we could stay in the airport overnight. Before leaving San Francisco, Eric’s dad told us all about Narita Airport. He explained how this 24-hour airport had dayrooms. I had never heard of these before, but supposedly these dayrooms had beds and showers and where available to rent by the hour. He also went on to tell us about the airport mall with all the shops and restaurants we could go to. I thought, well this great! We may have to stay at the airport for almost 17 hours, but it will be a piece of cake. We can eat, walk around, shop and even rent a room for a few hours so we can sleep.
As Eric and I got off the plane, we explained to one of the flight attendants that we had a long layover and would not be exiting the airport into Japan. She advised us on which direction to go in the airport and then we parted ways. The flight attendant headed towards immigration and customs, while we headed towards another set of security gates. Eric was walking ahead of me, he put his carry on bag on the security belt, handed the guard his ticket and walked through the metal detector. Next it was my turn, I put my bag on the security belt, handed the guard my ticket, but he stopped me. He started speaking to me in Japanese, which I did not understand. The guard kept repeating, “No, No, No”, and handed me my ticket and was pointing his finger in the other direction. I gathered that we were going the wrong way and he wanted us to turn around. So I yelled over to Eric, as he was let through the security check point for some reason. I told him to come back through the gate so we can figure out where we were supposed to be going.
This is the first time I felt like the foreigner! We were the foreigners! I became so stressed and almost scared in some ways. There I was, in another country trying to communicate with people who spoke another language. This is something I had never experienced before considering it was my first trip outside of the United States. I did not know what to do. I had an overwhelming sense of helplessness, but we had to figure this out. We grabbed our carry-on luggage and began walking towards another security gate. The guards at this gate also did not speak English and were also trying to tell us we were going the wrong way.
Next we walked toward the airport mall in hopes of finding someone who was able to help us. We ended up finding a security guard in his all blue uniform, white shirt, black tie and blue hat to match. He did not speak English, but we showed him our tickets and tried to explain our situation. The guard grabbed another guard and they were speaking back and forth in Japanese while looking at our tickets. Finally one of them motioned for us to follow him. He took us to an employee of NWA who spoke English. Finally, someone who can help us out, I thought to myself. Eric and I explained to the woman that we were going to have a 17 hour layover and wanted to know where we can stay. We wanted to know where the dayrooms were located. Baffled the woman looked at us and said, “Oh no, you can’t stay here overnight! The airport closes at 11 o’ clock p.m.! You have to exit the airport.” She then advised us to go down to immigration, fill out the paperwork needed to enter the country and go to baggage claim. At baggage claim, there is an NWA booth that would be able to assist us further.
When she told us the airport closes, that we could not stay my heart dropped into my stomach and I became flustered. I did not know what we were going to do! I couldn’t believe it… the airport closes?! I have never heard of such a thing! So, we did the only thing we could, we made our way towards immigration, filled out the paperwork and went over to the NWA booth near baggage claim. With a sense of panic starting to come over me, I confronted the NWA employee behind the counter with so many questions. We did not have a hotel; we were not expecting this to happen, I wanted to know what we were supposed to do. I was fearful of leaving the airport. I am a planner by nature; I do not like unexpected events, so naturally they are not welcomed with me. The employee at the booth explained that the airport does close at 11 o’clock pm, but we could stay in the “meeting point” of the airport. This was an area right when you enter the airport off the street, furnished with nothing but chairs, where we could spend the night. So, that was it… we would sleep in the chairs in the entrance of the airport in Tokyo, Japan.
Before the 11 o’clock hour, Eric and I were able to go into the mall, grab a bite to eat and call my mom. Even the simplest tasks made me feel so outside my element, unsure of what to do like paying at the restaurant, buying the calling cards and using the pay phone. First the calling card machine directions were all in Japanese making the purchase of a card, a “hope for the best” moment. Then figuring out how to use the calling card and pay phone together proved to be a chore. At the restaurant they had a button at our table, much like a door bell button, that we would push if we needed anything during the course of our meal. When they brought out the bill, they left a little tray near it. Is that where they wanted the yen to be placed? Sitting there we realized we did not even know if we were supposed to leave a tip or not. We recognized we were very unclear and unprepared as to the customs and culture in Japan. Eric ended up asking a gentleman next to us who kindly informed us tips are not welcomed in Japan.
After our meal, we headed out to find our sleeping area for the night. We picked a row of seats along a wall in a small concaved room. The chairs themselves were made of hard metal with very little tan colored cushioning. We put our luggage down on them, to act as pillows. We wrapped ourselves in sweatshirts and jackets to try and stay warm. When 11 pm stuck, the airport was closed down and all the doors were locked and most of the lights were shut off. The security guards, along with Japanese Police, came around asking everyone for their passports. They recorded all information from each individual passport so they could keep track of who was there. I felt very safe in knowing they did this.
All together, there were about 10 to 15 people around us; a group of men and woman who looked as if they were backpacking around different countries, a few pairs of woman and men and some couples. There was one man in particular that struck both Eric and I as a little odd. When the female police officer asked for his passport, the man acted as though he did not understand her, and I thought at first that there was a language barrier. Yet when a male officer came over the man was very cooperative. This made it seem like he may have not wanted to deal with the first officer because she was a woman. Also, throughout the night Eric and I woke up many times due to being uncomfortable or the noise of the singing vending machine, and every time we awoke to this man staring at us. It was the most awkward, uncomfortable occurrence.
We were glad to see morning come. Our uncomfortable night of sleep was over and we could go our separate ways from the “strange man” sitting near us. Before this happened there was one more scare with this man. As he got up from his seat, grabbing all of his bags, he left one dark disposable bag sitting there, right in the middle of the walk way. Eric and I remained sitting for a few minutes, just staring at it. We did not know what to do. Were we reading too much into this? Should we tell someone? All airports now talk about keeping your bags with you and informing authorities of unaccompanied bags. Just before we did anything about it, the man came back around, picked up his bag and threw it away. Phew… a sign of relief for us.
We got up and headed towards the mall for some breakfast, just before heading over to the departure gates. Our 17 hour layover was coming to an end. Before we boarded our plane, I made sure to use their airport computers to book a hotel room for our layover on the way back. That layover was going to be for nearly 24 hours, and although we thought of this as a memorable experience, it is not one we wanted to repeat.