Haneda Airport, Tokyo
I don’t consider our time in Haneda Airport in 2023 as ‘walking’ Tokyo Prefecture in regard to our understanding of visiting every prefecture in Japan. But our visit there was memorable and worth noting. For our trip to Kyushu, our airline had us make a connection in Tokyo on our way to Fukuoka. It didn’t really dawn on me that we would pass through customs in Tokyo. Japan had just lifted their strict COVID-19 rules that prohibited the free movement of foreign visitors in Japan. However they still required visitors to have proof that they received the COVID-19 vaccine and booster. To expedite this extra step through customs, they provided an online portal where visitors could upload the necessary documentation and receive a QR code on their mobile device to be presented upon entry. As we made our way through the terminal, numerous masked airport personnel held up placards of a mobile phone displaying a QR code. The airport workers were dividing the arriving passengers into two areas - those who had and didn’t have a QR code on their mobile device. My heart sank when I saw the sign with the QR code. I had seen it when looking into traveling to Japan and made a mental note to look into what obtaining one was about. Somehow I had forgotten. Now watching the passengers divided into the two queues, I felt as though I were back in school when I had forgotten a homework assignment and suffered the trauma of watching all of my classmates turn theirs in while I had nothing. The missing QR code might not have been too bad except that I noticed our phones were not receiving data over the Japanese cellular network. I first tried opening a website on my phone. Nothing. I asked Woody for her phone. It didn’t work either. Some months prior to our trip, we had switched to a discount mobile carrier. As we made plans for our trip, I went to their website and checked if they had coverage in Japan. “We got you covered,” their website boasted when it came to Japan. They offered an international option to obtain coverage throughout Japan, so I added the option to both of our devices. Now, here in Tokyo, neither phones were working. I thought that it might take some time to validate our devices. In the stress of the moment, I never thought to look for a wifi option in the airport to mitigate the immediate concern. About that time, an airport worker approached us and pointed to an instruction sheet written in English with instructions on how to obtain a QR code so that we could proceed through customs. I tried to explain that our mobile devices were not working and I couldn’t enter our information. The worker apologetically motioned for us to follow her as she led us to another worker who could communicate much better in English. The second worker repeated the instructions and then sympathetically looked at my device as I demonstrated that it was not connecting to their website. I explained that neither of our phones were able to connect. She calmly looked up at us and then in her best English told us that she was sorry, but that we could not enter Japan. What?! We can’t enter?! I was trying to understand what that meant. We can’t enter because we don’t have a working mobile phone? We couldn’t possibly be the only ones in this predicament, could we? Does that mean that we have to remain in the terminal until we are able to take the next available flight back to the states? After a couple minutes, another airport employee arrived and began a conversation in Japanese with the workers who were trying to help us. They seemed to be explaining our predicament with the third worker, who we guessed was a supervisor. Following their conversation, she turned to me to explain that we are required to register in order to enter Japan. I again expressed our willingness but inability to do so. She appeared to have an epiphany, and motioned for us to follow her. We walked briskly in pursuit as she wove through the sea of visitors who were standing and registering for entry on their mobile devices. We abruptly stopped at a table with three laptops in a dark corner of the holding area. She logged into one of the laptops and browsed to the registration site and asked me to enter my information. I wasn’t sure how this was going to help since I assumed the result was to receive a page with the QR code. Were we to show the laptop to the customs agent? When I got to the end of the registration, she clicked a link which displayed the QR code. “Take a photo,” she stated as I tried to understand why. I thought to question her, but she immediately started a new registration and directed me to repeat the process for Woody. I was briefly concerned that customs is going to demand that we demonstrate the actual site on our devices? But with the two QR photos in hand, she directed us to a line leading to a customs agent. He had no issue with our QR photos. After a quick review of our documents, we officially arrived in Japan! Once through customs, we learned that we had to collect our suitcases in baggage claim and then go through the check-in process for the domestic flight to Fukuoka. Several airline attendants with very good English skills helped to direct us. They informed us that once we retrieved our bags, we needed to exit the terminal and walk down the sidewalk to the airport shuttle stop for a bus that would take us to the domestic flight terminal. Once out of the confines of the international terminal, we embarked on our adventure into Japanese culture. It immediately started with the shuttle bus. As Woody and I emerged from the baggage terminal, the bus was still parked at the loading zone. A neatly uniformed bus worker stood on the curb directly next to the bus. I initially thought he was the driver, but it became apparent that his job was to manage the bus stop - and he took his job very seriously! As we arrived, he seemed to be verifying that all was safe at the rear of the bus. Completely ignoring our arrival, he walked the length of the bus, turned and examined the front door, grunted a command, and signaled the bus to leave. Immediately, the bus departed from the bus stop as though it was controlled by his command. The worker then straightened his uniform and positioned himself near to the curb. Without looking at us, he began an announcement in Japanese as though he were addressing a large crowd. We looked around thinking other riders had arrived, but Woody and I were the only ones waiting. He then began to use one hand and arm to draw our attention to the markings on the ground. As he continued his message, he began to walk along a wide line painted parallel to the curb. At around one bus length, he turned to follow the line as it made a 90 degree turn towards the terminal, and then another turn back towards where he started. As he reached the end of the second length, he turned back towards us, took a step back, and continued to bark instructions while using his hand and arm to point out the line as it continued in the same back and forth pattern. Even though I could quickly follow the line to its conclusion, I thought I’d better follow along so I wouldn’t get in trouble for not paying attention. By the time that he concluded his instructions, several other passengers had arrived and stood listening and watching his commands. Even though Woody and I couldn’t understand a word, we clearly understood his instructions to queue on the line while waiting for the bus. At the conclusion he looked directly at us and spoke and motioned for us to take our positions at the front of the queue. He then directed the others to line up in the order that they had arrived. And with that, we all stood in a straight line as we waited for the next shuttle. Once in line, Woody and I smiled broadly and attempted to hold back from laughing. To us, his efforts were pretty comical given the circumstances. There were only a few people waiting for the bus and both the sidewalk and street were devoid of a lot of traffic. As we continued to wait, two Japanese businessmen in suits joined the queue with their carryon luggage. They took a position directly after the last person but continued in a straight line while ignoring the 90 degree turn painted on the sidewalk. Immediately the worker barked at them and pointed out the line on the ground. Both businessmen got in a quick laugh and then repositioned themselves so that they followed the painted lines. When the bus arrived, the bus worker made sure the bus was perfectly positioned at the stop and then directed us to wait. He guided the departing riders off the bus and then had us board orderly until the queue was cleared. When it was time for the bus to depart, we watched him execute the same protocol that we had observed earlier when he cleared the previous bus for departure. It was our first exposure to the order and perfection that many Japanese set out to achieve in their jobs, no matter how menial the task. We experienced a second cultural difference shortly after pulling away from the stop. A short time into our ride, a young woman began engaging in a phone conversation with her friend in English. No one else was talking on the bus. The bus driver brought the bus to an abrupt stop, turned around, and in her best English told the woman to end her conversation. The woman apologized and put her phone away. In Japan, it is considered rude to engage in phone or loud conversations while riding public transportation. Once we boarded the flight to Fukuoka, we witnessed some more cultural differences. The flight attendants were very neatly dressed in their uniforms. Woody particularly took notice that their uniforms were perfectly fitted, void of wrinkles, and that they were so neatly groomed that it appeared as though not a single hair was out of place. They wore white gloves and bowed to the cabin of passengers each time that they made an entrance. Prior to takeoff, the attendants would walk through their official procedures, using their gloved index finger to point at each light, panel, and latch to verify every item was in order before moving to the next. The contrast between them and the flight crew that we had while flying to Tokyo was dramatic. On that flight, our cabin had two attendants who were disheveled and acted as though they hated their jobs and didn’t want to be there. Woody and I were trying our hardest to show them a kind heart. But they were overall so impatient and rude that it made us wonder why they chose to work in the service industry. Another noticeable difference was the noise level in the cabin. The flight to Fukuoka was on a wide bodied plane as was the flight to Tokyo, but there was little to no noise on the 2 1⁄2 hour flight. At one point at the start of the flight, Woody leaned over to me and asked me to listen. I stopped reading to try to listen to what she was wanting me to hear. Silence. “It’s so quiet,” she said as she then reminded me of our previous flight experiences. We were amazed at the contrast between the two flights.
