Stuck in Japan…

Every time I land in Japan, a sense of peace washes over me—one I don’t feel anywhere else in the world. Here, silence isn’t awkward; it’s life. It’s so calm, quiet, and organized…the opposite of my birth country… It’s paradise to go outside and not hear people screaming, laughing like hyenas, or trying to get attention like in my country. No one stares too long, no one invades your space, no one gets in your way ( except for tourists from the American continent)👆🏼

where people can’t seem to mind their own business. In Japan, everyone moves through life like ghosts—graceful, disciplined, unbothered.

The only time I’ve ever felt aggression on these streets, it came from Mexican or South American tourists. I spot them instantly—loud voices, laughter that shatters the calm, this desperate need to make their presence known in a country that never asked for it. So when I landed from Seoul and realized I had a flight out the next day, I tried to cancel it. I didn’t want to leave. But the airline said they’d only refund me the taxes, so I figured I might as well take my flight to San José and get back to work.

At the check-in counter, I noticed a staff member whispering to her colleague. Then another joined them. The third one, who seemed like a manager, walked over to me with that apologetic look people get when they’re about to ruin your day.

“I’m so sorry, but we’ve received a notification from the U.S. embassy. You’re not allowed to fly there.”

“But it’s just a layover,” I said. “My final destination is my country.”

“We understand, but you don’t have permission to transit through the U.S. You’ll need to book a direct flight.”

Of course, they didn’t refund me a damn thing. Not a single cent. And it was a business class ticket.

I spent three hours at the airport, staring at my options. I didn’t want to fly straight to Mexico—I’m still waiting on my Australian visa. So for now, Japan holds me a little longer.

Not the worst place to be stranded.