The following weeks would progressively get more stressful, with nearing project deadlines and rising COVID cases. But life had to go on. The commutes started feeling longer every day. There was a mask shortage, so I had no choice but to be a daredevil. Any form of pharyngeal sounds from any corner of the coach would make my life flash in front of my eyes. Every evening, I would be convinced that the fatigue I was feeling was “Corona”. Teammates began leaving as the deadly disease had now spread its wings to the Western hemisphere. I also had the option to return. But like the rest of the world, I was not sure what was safe and what was not, and could only speculate.

I chose to stay on and make the best of whatever situation was in offer. Fortunately, Japan as a society was also staying resolute. It seemed like business as usual for most of it. I stopped following the news and reaffirmed my faith on Japan’s hygienic culture. I commuted during off-peak hours and stuck to the front of the train, continuing to enjoy the shotgun views. A daily dose of the unassumingly delicious 7/11 custard cream puff to go with that was all the motivation I needed. While waiting for trains, I tried to learn some Japanese. I started with train numbers and phrases like Gochuui Kudasai. supplemented with plenty of extrapolation to incorrectly assume what the shrill-voiced station announcer was conveying. When it came to speaking, the best I could do was Hai and Sumimasen which perhaps didn’t require travelling halfway around the planet. Learning Japanglish words was fun though. A takeout order from Makudonarudo (McDonald’s) and a cookie from Sutabakkusu (Starbucks) paid for with my kurejittokado (Credit Card) and my night was set.

During the weekends, the drive to maximize my travel destination count had died. But unlike Koln in 2016, I gave Kobe a chance. I hung out with colleagues on Friday nights and enjoyed night outs in the tiny and dingy, yet soulful bars. I laughed at the sight of drunk middle-aged men rolling over on the glamorous streets of Sannomiya. I tried a plethora of local cuisines like Okonomiyaki, Gyoza and Shabu-Shabu. I explored the myriads of artisan stores that dotted the quaint narrow lanes of Motomachi. I took long walks to revel in the pleasant sea breeze of the Kobe harbor area. I also managed to catch the ‘Hello Kitty’ Shinkansen – a weird amalgamation of cutting-edge technology and childish feline fantasy. I finally crossed the suspension bridge and solved the mystery of what lay on other side. It was a nice park. And finally, I somehow got pulled into a spontaneous mid-work trip to the famous Himeji castle. As I posed for the customary picture, I noticed on the barren trees that surrounded the architectural marvel, a sprawl of white buds. These were the nascent stages of the one and only cherry blossom flowers. The post-carded Sakura of Japan was nigh, & boy, was I on a high. Seeing the majestic sea of pink would be the ideal symbolic victory for me over the invisible virus and all the stress it brought.

But of course, life, which was at the mercy of this menace, had different plans. The numbers had now escalated dramatically worldwide. The joke about the similitude between asymptomatic & asymptotic had gotten literal. COVID was officially a pandemic. International flights were getting cancelled left & right and a lockdown in Kobe was looming. I was in a soup again. So, I decided to get some soup, in my favorite form – Ramen. I pondered over my conundrum while slurping through the noodle strands, bathed in broth plus chilly oil. I realized there was no choice but to fly back as soon as possible. My team organized a mini farewell dinner for me and before I could make sense of anything, it was time to leave. Alas, peak bloom was barely a week away. The Sakura themed pink Starbucks paper cup was the closest thing I would get. 

I had to catch a morning train to Tokyo for my flight. I got one last courteous wish of “Ohayo Gozaimasu” from the hotel staff before heading back to Ohio. Once aboard, I dozed off from all the fatigue and gloom. I woke up when the train attendant walked past me & unfailingly bowed down before exiting, even to the empty coach. The map showed that we were close to Fuji again. “Will I get one last view?”, I wondered. The clouds got denser and all I saw was lush green pastures. Nothing!

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