Home At Last
I have been away from Tokyo for eight weeks now, and just arrived home Tuesday night. I had a wonderful summer in Washington D.C., but the feeling of arriving home to “my” life and “my” stuff is incomparable.
Within minutes of arriving at Haneda Airport, I knew I was back in the culture I love. There is a line on the carpeting in the baggage area of the Customs Hall. It says, “no carts beyond this line” in both English and Japanese. There were several baggage carts that went right up to the line, but not a single one went over it. There was a clear two-foot radius around the baggage claim carousel that had nothing in it except people waiting for luggage. There was no jostling for space among tired bodies and precariously perched suitcases and bags. Everything was orderly to the minute.
I wasn’t allowed a camera in the Customs Hall, otherwise I would have taken a picture. In this rule-bound society, I thought it best to obey the posted sign.
So here we go! Tokyo, I’ve missed you.
Right on!
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By no means thought of it that way.