The Escape: Part 1

Well, foreigners living in Japan have, like so many bananas, split. It's been a veritable exodus, making the front pages of Japanese newspapers and causing unbelievable backups at immigration offices as people make mad dashes to get their re-entry permits. I had no intention of joining this madness, rising above the various pleas and demands that I return to Canada, until my husband informed me that I'd be leaving the next day. *sigh* It's hard to argue with that, and all of the guilt-tripping (example: you're PREGNANT! PREGNANT women are more vulnerable to radiation poisoning. Think of your BABY!!!"). So, just as my husband had said, the next day I was leaving on a jet-plane, bound for Pearson International Airport.

Just to give you an idea of the madness, I'll tell you about the morning I left:

At about 5am, just before my husband was to get up for work, I gasped and sat up, scaring my poor husband who thought something was physically wrong with me/baby, and exclaimed "I have no re-entry permit!" This is a bad thing. In Japan, if you leave the country with the intention of coming back, but without a re-entry permit, you lose your visa upon your return. This means no working (bye-bye employment), a three-month visitor's visa, and a lot of paperwork to fill in for a new visa. So, before you leave the country, you have to head out to immigration, buy a revenue stamp (single re-entry: 3000 yen; multiple re-entry: 6000 yen), take a number, wait in line, wait for your application to go through, and then head home. The re-entry permit lasts only as long as your visa, so, upon getting a new visa, you have to do the same thing over again. 

Now normally, I would have done this well in advance of leaving the country, but this time, there was no time. So, determined to get things done quickly, I headed out the door at 8.30am, arriving at office at about 9.30. I went to buy a revenue stamp at the convenience store. They were all sold out. So, I headed to the post office to get one. The line ran out the door. The people in front of me were almost all buying stamps for their friends, too, which had me worried that the post office would run out, too. Luckily, they didn't. I got my stamp (multiple re-entry. I figured I might as well), and headed to the immigration building. The line there went out the door and down the very, very long street. There were police to keep order. I ducked between two police and got in line. Immediately, an immigration official came up to me.

"I'm sorry, but we're done for the day," he said. (I might point out that it was 10am...TEN FREAKIN' AM).

"Eeeeehhhh----? But my flight leaves today. I have to get a permit," said I.


"Oh, I see. Do you have your ticket?" he asked.

"It's an electronic ticket. All I have is my itinerary," I replied.

"Oh, I see," he said, looking rather worried. "What time do you fly?"

"7pm."

"Oh, I see (the Japanese say this a lot). Well, I'll go ask, but I don't think it's possible."

By this point, I was nearly in tears (sleepy + pregnancy-related emotional instability + not wanting to leave my husband = teary me). He came back a few minutes later shaking his head.

"It's impossible, I'm afraid. Where are you flying from? Narita?"

"Yes," I said, "what should I do?"

"Well, go to Narita and try there."

"TRY, TRY????" I thought. How does one TRY at Narita airport? If one fails, what does one do? Oh well, no choice. I headed to Narita.

Normally, I would take the Chuo line to Shinjuku, then the Narita Express to the airport. It's the way I always do things. It's convenient and comfortable for me. Unfortunately, my attempt to buy a ticket went something like this;

"Excuse me, I'd like to buy a Narita Express ticket, please."

"The Narita Express is not running today," stated the incredibly pre-occupied-with-gluing-something-together staff member. 

"Uh, what? What should I do? How should I get to the airport?"

"Track 15 to Nippori. Take the Keisei line," replied Mr. Pre-occupied, without even looking up.

Thankfully, I made it to Nippori and from there things went much more smoothly. But let me tell you, the first few hours of my day nearly had me screaming in rage and frustration.