Lack of Communication

August 9, 2011

So finally, I was in Australia. After making it through customs and only almost losing my passport once, I was ready to hitch a ride and go to the house I would be staying at. I was even planning on staying with my friend from Richmond who was also studying abroad in Melbourne. Now I just had to meet him, his flight from Japan would be landing within the half hour and he had already made free airport pickup reservations…for himself and I was going to try to mooch off of him. I looked up at the digitized schedule board which, fun fact, are apparently known as Solari boards (named after the display manufacturer) for an incoming flight from Japan. And of course, with my luck, out of over 20 options I couldn’t see one flight from Japan. I sat down and waited for the options to roll over, it was still early. That lasted about five minutes. I then made a much better decision to go ask where I could find an incoming flight from Japan. I walked up to the information booth patting myself on the back for my sure stroke of…rationality.

Me: “Hello? Hey, I was just wondering when the next flight from Japan was”
Information Assistant: “Oh of course, one second please”
Computer: “Beep-beep. Beep”
Information Assistant: “there aren’t any”

What was I going to do? We hadn’t exchanged flight information, nor did we have phones to call one another on. I couldn’t live in the airport! The food is overpriced and any purchase would just be economically unsound. I immediately ceased my back-patting, feeling my back no longer deserved the reward of a job well done. I was doomed.

Information Assistant: “Is it possible that it’s a domestic flight?”
Polite-Me: “No, I don’t think so. He’s flying from Japan.
Information Assistant: “To Melbourne?”
Just-Had-An-Epiphany Me: “No I’m pretty sure he’s flying to Sydney first and then to… oh…wow”
Smiling Information Assistant: “Domestic is just that way.”
Determined Me: “Thank you!”
Information Assistant: “No-”

I was already gone. It was at this point that I finally understood what people did before technology. Panicked and Ran. I quickly made my way to domestic arrivals and looked at the arrivals screen for flights from Sydney. There were about five. I decided to casually pace back and forth between the luggage conveyor belts and just smile at people, all while waiting for the next flight to arrive 20 minutes later. In hindsight, if there was ever a man who looked as if he was going to be reported for suspicious activity in an airport, this would definitely be that guy. Time was passing with no signs of my friend. Then I saw her, the woman with the highlighter yellow and lime green sign around her neck that said overseas students. I ran to her…and stood awkwardly next to her until she said something.

Driver: “Hello! Are you an international student?
Me: “YES!”
Driver: “are you attending the University of Melbourne?”
Me: “YES!”
Driver: “Ok great! What’s your name?”
Me: “…”

Ok so I hadn’t really thought this completely through. I looked at her checklist out of the side of my eye and knew I wasn’t on there. On the other hand, I knew someone who was. Still, I couldn’t just take his reservation and strand him. Plus, there was no way she’d believe that both my passport and driver’s license conveniently had typos and they just got my name wrong.

Driver: “…”
Me: “…Uh…Shohsei…Oda?”
Driver: “…Ok great! Grab your things and come with me”

Or maybe she’d just take my word for it. But I couldn’t, with good conscience, leave my friend (and housemate) without a ride. Especially since he booked it himself and I was taking it.

Me: “Wait, he’s my friend. I’m just meeting him here. We’re going to the same place so I was hoping I could just get a ride as well?”

Long story short, honesty is the best policy. We found Shohsei who had missed his Sydney to Melbourne flight because of customs and I was able to get a ride with the shuttle service. Unfortunately, the shuttle service was only free around the city, which our home was 30 minutes away from, and we both had to end up paying. Still, it wasn’t as much as a taxi and we were finally at this place that we would soon learn to call home…and people we would soon call by their first names because calling them mom and dad would just be awkward. Oh right, did I mention we were doing a home stay?


There’s a first for everything

July 28, 2011

If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to personally congratulate you for finding a very positive, educational and constructive way to spend your time and/or for being a good friend who I’ve asked to come read my blogging while away. With that said, in the wise words of Jay-Z, allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Mike (MI to the K-E of course) and I am a rising junior at the University of Richmond. I’m majoring in international studies and am spending this next semester in Australia. Because this is technically the spring semester for students, I am already here. If you can believe it, I’ve actually left summer to come to an Australian winter.  But as you’ll hopefully come to understand by getting small insights into my life while in Australia, I’m banking on the hope that it will be completely worth it. Now, I’d like to take you to day one of my trip to Australia and am confident that you will stay for, and enjoy, the whole journey.

Day 1:

The entire way to the airport I’ve been secretly doing the three-part check: Wallet, keys and phone. I don’t like to panic publicly, especially in front of my family; they freak out three times more than I do and it’s always been a faux pas of mine. But this time I came up short on keys, only to remember that I won’t need house or car keys… And then I realize that I must have come up short every other time I’ve done the three part check. I soon realize that it’s not keys I should be checking for, but my passport. Finally, I come to the consensus that a mental checklist is just way too inefficient for these types of situations. I needed something visual, something concrete. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? And as I thrust my hand in my pockets in a silent fit of panic, stress and newly acquired worry-hunger, I could feel the edged corner of a folded piece of paper that was, of course, a concrete, visual checklist I had written earlier. I opened it to find housing details, contact information and even a student visa number. Responsible mike had taken care of everything for panicked, stressed and hungry mike. I liked responsible mike. I made a mental note to invite him to all of my big events in the future like finals week and job interviews. With a sigh of relief, I had avoided a recipe for a heart attack. The only problem was I consistently chose the optional “repeat if necessary” option, just to be safe and all, and went all the way back to “step 1: three-part check your pockets” every hour afterwards. Yet, after a last minute rush of panic and drawn out heart-felt see-you-laters (I like see-you-laters over goodbyes) on the security checkpoint line at the airport, I was finally on the plane, ready to relax and fall asleep to in-flight episodes of Modern Family. Australia, here I come.