Shot Down by English!? Welcome to America — Baptism by Fire at LAX

In the previous article, I wrote about my comeback after being denied entry to the U.S. and my second attempt at crossing the Pacific.

Fired up with a “This time for sure!” spirit, I boarded a Japan Airlines flight and landed at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX).

My first time in America, my first time in California, my first time in Los Angeles. I had finally set foot in the United States I’d dreamed about for so long.

Cleared immigration at last! A heart-pounding second attempt

And then came the moment of truth—immigration.

Last time in Seattle, I’d been grilled by an immigration officer and ultimately denied entry.

That trauma rushed back in an instant. Cold sweat formed on my forehead, and my heart was pounding like crazy.

“Are they going to say something again…?”
With that anxiety swirling inside me, I queued up for passport control.

I was holding my passport with hands that were just slightly shaking.

And then…

Nothing. I passed right through.

The officer stamped my passport in seconds, almost anticlimactically, and just like that—I was officially in.

More than happy, I was honestly thinking, “Wait, that’s it?”

America is… kind of amazing.

The moment I cleared customs and stepped out of the terminal—

“Whoa… this is just like in the movies…”

I took a deep breath of the dry air, and through the gap between the terminal building and the parking structure, I saw a sky so blue it didn’t seem real.

The sun was blazing down, and everything I saw looked exactly like a scene straight out of a Hollywood film.

And then, I was seized by a strange feeling:

“I feel like… I can do anything…!”

I can’t quite put it into words, but it was a kind of “energy” I had never felt in Japan—something welling up from deep inside.

It was definitely there, a force that seemed to be gently pushing me forward.

Before me stretched an unknown world. Everything about it was fascinating, a little scary, but overwhelmingly exciting. It felt exactly like the beginning of an adventure.

No time to bask in the moment—gotta make my connection!

But there was no time to linger in that emotional haze.
My next mission was waiting:

A domestic connection.

My destination: San Francisco.
My airline: United Airlines.

The problem was figuring out how to get to the United check-in counter in this massive maze that is LAX.

This was a time before smartphones. No Wi-Fi, no apps, no Google Maps.
Paper map? Didn’t have one.

All I had to rely on were my courage and my broken English.

My first words in English — the moment of truth

Dragging my big Boston bag behind me, I followed the flow of people for a while until I spotted the Western Airlines counter.

“All right, I’ll ask here.”

I recalled the sentence I’d prepared in advance:

“Where is United Airline’s check-in counter?”

Not exactly confident, but it was a phrase I’d practiced over and over. Time to put it to use.

Two female ground staff were chatting and laughing behind the counter. I walked up to them, took a deep breath, gathered every ounce of courage I had, and asked my question.

And right at that moment—

“Kya-ha-ha-ha-ha!!”

Huh!? They laughed at me!?

For a moment, I had no idea what had happened and just stood there blinking in confusion. Then they pointed down at the floor and said:

“Here!”

It seemed the problem lay in what I’d actually said.

I replayed the scene in my head—

“Uh… Where is United States?”

…Wait. United States!?

That’s when it hit me.
I thought I’d asked, “Where is United Airlines’ check-in counter?” but what I’d really said was:

“Where is the United States?”

Right in the middle of California. At full volume. 😂

The moment the air got lighter

I broke into a cold sweat over my terrible English, but somehow I ended up laughing too.

The women at the counter weren’t laughing at me in a cruel way—it was more of a warm, good-natured laugh.

And that made me oddly happy.

Because my very first English words in a foreign country had been such a ridiculous blunder, the tension inside me suddenly melted away. I still remember how my nerves just… unwound.

It was the moment I realized that laughter really does have the power to connect people across borders.

I asked them properly again for the location of United Airlines this time, they pointed me in the right direction with a smile, and I somehow managed to check in successfully.

An adventurer walking the terminal

Today, you’d just hop on a simple shuttle bus between terminals.

But back then, I had no idea such a service even existed. So there I was, literally “adventuring” through a foreign airport, dragging a heavy Boston bag behind me.

Like the main character in an RPG, clearing conversation events, gathering information, and moving step by step toward the destination.

Thinking about it now, I was actually kind of cool in my own way.

At one point I sat on a bench to drink some water, and an elderly couple next to me smiled and said:

“Welcome to America.”

Just those few words—and yet they really sank deep into my heart.

I felt wrapped in something gentle, a strange kind of kindness that was both completely new and somehow nostalgic.

What I saw as I wandered around LAX

In any case, that airport felt enormous.

Everywhere I looked, everything was in English. Everywhere I walked, I was surrounded by foreigners. There wasn’t a trace of Japanese anywhere.

The strap of my bag was digging into my shoulder as I sweated my way across the terminal, and then I saw this quintessentially American scene: airport staff zipping by with carts, and on top of one cart—Coke and hamburgers.

“I really did come to America…”

That alone was enough to move me a little.

Other travelers were striding along with their suitcases rolling smoothly behind them, looking totally at ease. I was the only one dragging an old-school Boston bag, feeling awkward and out of place.

But I didn’t want to lose.

I didn’t know the language, the culture, or the rules—but that’s exactly why the only option was to keep taking one step forward at a time.

Maybe… that’s what it really means to start living in America.

This “first words in English” experience wasn’t just a funny story for me.

Speaking to a stranger, in a strange land, in a language you barely know—

That takes a huge amount of courage.

But once you manage to take that very first step, you realize something:
the world is surprisingly warm, wide, and kind.

That moment was my first real contact with America.

And without a doubt, it was the very first step of the journey that changed my life.

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To be continued — Arrival in San Francisco!

Having safely boarded my United flight, I headed to my next destination: San Francisco.

What kind of encounters and mishaps were waiting for me there?

That will have to wait until next time—stay tuned!