Writing is supposed to be cathartic, right?

Let me tell you how lucky I am: In preparation for my trip to Shanghai this coming weekend, I need a Chinese visa. When I purchased the tickets, the travel agent asked me how I planned to get one. Tom had told me that its possible to get a visa when you arrive in Shanghai, so I relayed this plan to her. She sounded very doubtful and asked me to contact the Chinese Embassy in Tokyo. I, feeling secure in my right-ness, said sure and left it at that.

The following day I tried to find information on the Shanghai airport visas but the information on the Tokyo Chinese Embassy page was in a) Chinese or b) Japanese. The Washington D.C. Embassy website provided more information describing the type of visa I needed, but nothing about the availability (or lack thereof) of visas in Shanghai. So- I decided that since I would be in Tokyo this weekend, I would just go directly to the Chinese Embassy to get my visa, which is what I told the travel agent, Ms. Kaida, who called me again to check on my progress. Later last week, I decided I ought to try calling the Embassy to make sure this was a feasible plan. Silly me- the Chinese embassy is only open to the public from 8am to 12pm and I called at 1:30pm so they weren't answering their phones. I began to doubt the sanity behind trusting these folks with my passport.

On to plan B. I called Ms. Kaida and asked her if perhaps they could secure my visa for me. They'd originally offered to do it for 8000 yen ($80) but I'd turned them down- now that I was a week away from departure it would cost 15000 yen ($150ish). So, swallowing my pride, I agreed to skip trying to track down the Chinese Embassy and instead to drop my passport at their Shinjuku office on Monday morning.

Fast forward to Sunday evening: Tom and I are on the train out to Narita Airport- he's flying out to Shanghai in about two hours and I'm hanging out in Tokyo waiting for a job meeting Monday morning and for the all important passport exchange. Out of nowhere, my jaw drops, I look at Tom, and I exclaim "I'm totally screwed!" (not lady-like language, I agree but as an amateur writer I like to practice accuracy..blah blah blah). He looks at me waiting for the follow up. Grandpa Richard- you'd better sit down for this next line. "I forgot my passport!". Ah yes, the line that is destined to follow me for the rest of my life, the line that my family hasn't allowed me forget from a horrible 7 year old mistake, the line that is bound to be engraved on my tombstone. Yes indeed, my passport was back in Misato in the drawer I keep it in so I can always find it... and never have it when I need it. Damn.

We sat in silence. I could tell he was so dumbfounded at my pure stupidity that he couldn't even figure out what to say. I didn't know what to do. I considered jumping on a train to home right that minute so I could grab the passport and come right back (round trip 6 hours/9000 yen). I considered just giving up. I decided I was just going to have to lie. Lie and hope the travel agency had some loopholes. Meanwhile, as a Plan C Tom and I re-thought about the visa in the Shanghai Airport scheme. He'd be there in a few hours and would check it out and call me to report on the situation.

He called late at night saying there was indeed a booth set up for visa-making and it appeared that it was possible to fly there and get a visa on arrival. I was still a bit nervous whether I would be allowed out of this country without the correct documention though...

...So on Monday morning, after my meeting I called Ms. Kaida. I couldn't bare the shame of even strangers knowing that I am passport challenged, so (like predicted) I lied. "Um, I had an important business meeting this weekend and I could not go to Tokyo" I said while sipping a latte in a Shinjuku (Tokyo) Starbucks (Liar! Liar!). "If I overnight my passport to you, could you still process the visa in time?". Well, of course she can... no problems... and she promised to fax the paperwork to my office-where I of course was NOT... but I could get on a bus immediately and be home by 3 pm, plenty of time to grab the forms from the office and overnight them and my trouble-making passport . (I also tried again to call the Embassy to verify the airport visa scheme, but apparently their disinterest in answering their phones has no relation to business hours- They just don't care.)

That all decided, I got on a bus. Hm- not a good start- the bus was packed, it was pouring outside, and in front of me sat the two loudest Japanese toddlers with whom I've ever shared a narrow space. About halfway to Matsumoto the kids woke us all up to announce that "It's snow! It's snow!". This announcement followed previous hollers announcing Disneyland (in the middle of those rice fields, I think not), McDonalds (this is news?), and the need to poop (GO!). Of course this new announcement was a bit more pertinant (ooh foreshadowing!). We stopped at a rest-stop and all were soaked by the wet spring flakes floating down- hm, must be March. I hurried through the wet snow from the rest stop after a man randomly asked if we could speak English (this is not the post on which to describe how much this annoys me).

No more than 30 minutes later our bus rolled to a stop in the middle of the highway. I looked up and saw it. My stomach sunk so low that it bounced off the kid painting the floor beneath my feet with a wet sucker. Directly in front of our bus was a dark red jacknifed semi-trailer. I kidded myself for the next three hours that it could move "soon", but truthfully it was that first moment when I saw the truck when I knew that my mission was doomed. We sat, and sat, and sat. The man next to me turned around and revealed himself as the English stalker. The heat was cranked. I sighed and buried my nose in my not so interesting novel.

We reached Matsumoto 3 hours late, at 6 pm. I waited another 40 minutes for a train to take me the 15 minutes between Matsumoto and my home station. I (in dress clothes) dug Herby my trusty car out of 8 inches of the wettest, heaviest snow ever. We spun around corners and zoomed towards .... a very dark, locked school. Gah. Not one to totally give up (whatever) we turned next to home, where I called a teacher to meet me at school and grabbed that damn passport. After returning to school to claim the visa application, I hurried to fill it out and zoom (through the spring storm dumping snow) to 7-11 to see if they could still get my passport to Tokyo. And the verdict was.... nope, it aint gonna happen. They were nice enough to call around town to see if anyone could help but I was totally out of luck. (currently banging head on desk in rememberance).

Sigh. So-after that why am I so lucky? Let me count the ways:
1. Ms. Kaida (doubting my sanity and why I got stuck in a 3 hour traffic jam if I never left the office this weekend), will be able to process the documentation this week by receiving my paperwork partly by fax today and overnight mail tomorrow and have the passport/visa at her office for me to pick up on Saturday on the way to the airport. At least I won't be able to forget it at home!
2. I wasn't PART of the highway accident. Nor did I crash my car while zooming around town last night like a complete moron.
3. I'm going to Shanghai for a 5 day vacation with my fabulously patient, terribly amused boyfriend on Saturday. I hope.