Tears are streaming down my face, I’m miserably staring at the cars racing by me, all seemingly without a single care in the world. I have two suitcases beside me, their combined weight being about 80 lbs, or 45kg. In my hand is my cellphone, which has no service in Japan. It’s dark, pitch black, really, and the area next to Fukuoka Airport doesn’t have a single hotel, and only one convenience store. This is the end of pretty terrible day, and the beginning of one very long night.

It all started when I woke up at 5am the morning before, and my dad drove me to the airport in Eugene, Oregon. The grumpy-looking airline worker flatly told us that he could not check my baggage all the way through to Fukuoka, or even Tokyo. My dad tried to argue with him, explaining that he had called the airline beforehand, and that they had said that they could. Me, being adverse to conflict, said “Dad, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Man, would I come to regret those words. That’s what I get for being overly kind to people. 

So, I got on the flight, which was uneventful until I got to LA.

Annnnddd that’s where it started going downhill.

I had to wait for my luggage, which ended up taking 40 minutes, and by then I was very late for my connecting flight, which I couldn’t even find the check-in counter for. When I did, it said “Sorry, you can no longer check into this flight. Please seek further assistance.” So after trailing from counter to counter (back and forth across the airport), I called my dad and asked for help. I called the service I booked the flight through, while my parents harassed the airlines. My parents pointed out their employee had messed up, and I had ended up missing my flight as a result. So they gave in, and got me on the next flight out (I got to skip the security lines and go the back way through the airport, which was pretty fun). I sat for 13 uncomfortable hours on the flight to Tokyo (I hate middle seats), and managed to check into the next flight without anything eventful happening. I made friends with an American soldier going to the Navy base in Sasebo during the flight, and tried to give him some advice on living in Japan. I thought, Ok, this isn’t so bad. You’re going to be fine.

I got to the bus stop and felt my heart drop. There was no line going to my city.

Oh no.

Sure enough, I had missed the last bus (because the buses stop after 9pm). But I thought, Ok, this isn’t your last option, you still have the train. Just find an ATM, and get some cash. 

And this is where Japan’s cash society can be a real pain. I got to the ATM to find out my cash card had stopped working.

In that moment, it felt like the universe had looked for a person to pick on for the day, saw a short blonde girl getting on a plane to Japan, and said “Aha!”

Anyway, now I was really stuck.  I went back to the airport to find that they were locking up. It was a little past 11pm, and thats when Fukuoka Airport closes (Apparently. That was new information, at the time). I was at the Domestic Airport, so I thought that maybe the International Airport  would stay open for a little longer, or maybe I could sleep on a bench there until morning.

Only one problem with that: there were no more shuttle buses going to the International Airport, and I wasn’t sure how to get there without one. But, I’m a pretty stubborn person, so I started walking. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up on the side of the road with two suitcases, sobbing.

See, there’s no way to get into the International Airport without a bus, train, or car. So I had walked up and down a couple of hills looking for an entrance (earning myself some pretty impressive blisters on my hands, from the suitcases) only to discover this fact. Eventually, I gave up and called my mom through an international collect call. My sister picked up and said she was sleeping. For the first time of my life, I said that it was an emergency, and to wake her up.

Let me be clear: I actually used to really dislike asking my parents for help, or disturbing them, especially when they were sleeping, with personal things. But I was pretty desperate.

I told my mom what had happened, and she advised me to find somewhere to stay, and she would call my dad. I talked with both my parents in tears, and they tried to find a way to help me. But they were thousands of miles away, and there wasn’t much they could do. 

So, in the end, I sat forlornly on a curb outside of the Domestic Terminal, and resigned myself to sleeping on the sidewalk, and waking up to take the first shuttle bus to the International Terminal. At least Japan isn’t too dangerous, right? 

And thats when a cop car drove by.

Well, God works in mysterious ways, you know?

Sure enough, the cop stopped, suspicious of the girl with a tear-stained face sitting on the sidewalk. Bless his heart.

He asked me in Japanese what I was doing there. My Japanese was a little rusty after 6 weeks in the U.S., but I managed to get the message across: I was lost, stranded, and penniless. He kind of debated for a bit, then took pity on my pathetic situation, and asked if I wanted to sleep in the police station until the first bus. I very quickly said yes. He loaded my suitcases into the trunk (he was pretty shocked at their combined weight) and opened the door to the car.

The back door. 

I don’t know why, but I thought he would let me up front with him. In retrospect, it makes sense, but at the time, it felt kind of strange. So, for the first time in my life, I got to ride in the back of a cop car.

At least I wasn’t handcuffed.

So, in the end, I slept three hours in the police station, till around 7 am (apparently, I had been out until 4am, wandering about) and got on the first shuttle bus to the International Terminal. I texted my parents the story of what happened through their wifi, and waited till 9am to catch the bus back to my city.

As soon as I boarded the bus, I collapsed into the seat, utterly exhausted emotionally and physically, but also too anxious about getting home, and getting off at the right stop, to sleep. My final challenge was getting my suitcases to my house, which was up a hill (well, mountain, actually) and up stairs (yay for no elevators). When I finally did get home, I discovered my sleeping roommate, who was completely oblivious to the tragic occurrences of the night before. 

“Oh. You’re back?” She blinked at me sleepily, oblivious to the fact that I was about 12 hours late.

“Yup.” I glance around our new apartment, where I still didn’t have a bed. I dropped down onto hers.”You will not believe what happened to me.”

So, in summary, always expect the unexpected. When you are traveling, especially internationally, be prepared for things to change very quickly (and ALWAYS carry cash in the correct currency). It’s not the end of the world when things go sideways, sometimes you gotta roll with it. Even though it doesn’t feel very fun, you will still get through it. So don’t be too discouraged if things don’t go according to plan.

At least you aren’t riding in the back of a cop car, right? RIGHT??