After spending the day being lost in Tokyo and loving it, I returned to my hotel after finally finding MUJI. After resting for awhile, I left for another adventure, this time to Yokohama. I set out with low expectations, but high hopes.

I stopped the first person I saw. It was an unsuspecting 16-year-old girl, who walked about half a mile out of her way to help me buy my train tickets. She was slightly plump, with a round, kind face, and told me she was still in high school. When I asked her what she planned to study in college, she struggled to find words in English. “Lawyer!” she said triumphantly a few long seconds later. I inquired what kind of lawyer, and she replied simply, “Children,” and nodded sharply to punctuate her statement.

Once I had tickets in hand, the girl walked me to the electronic turnstiles, and turned about-face to me, signifying her work here was done. I thanked her several times, bowing my upper-body ever so slightly towards her with each repetition of gratitude. I fumbled with my unwieldy bag to pull out a business card before I walked through. I said sincerely, “If you ever come to America, please let me know,” and her eyes lit up in surprise and delight as she slowly ran her fingers over the thick card stock, carefully examining the fine print.

A train was waiting at the platform, so I stopped a young, well-dressed guy to find out if it was the correct train. Showing him my ticket and pointing at the train, I asked, “This one?” He replied affirmatively in fluent, only-ever-so-slightly accented English, and for a passing moment, I felt very small and silly.

I was relieved to find a seat on the train, and I sat with my head resting to the side against one of the poles. A few minutes later the doors closed and the train started moving. I was staring intently down at my ticket, memorizing the characters, and waiting for them to show up on the screen, when a guy sat down next to me. He sees me studying the ticket, and tells me Yokohama is 13 stops away.

The right characters flashed up on the screen, and I jump up and out. Following instructions, I find some a big escalator and go up them. At the top, I know immediately that I’m not in the right place. There are some shady looking guys standing in the shadows of the corner, hawking brochures of some sort. I innocently ask them where I might find the Disney store where I’m supposed to be meeting my friends.