Lines, lines, lines

Apparently there's a Disney Shanghai in the works, to be opened in 2015. I had toyed with the idea of holding off on my "year of Disney" so that Disney Shanghai's opening can be my last Disney park, but one thing stopped me. Lines. 

I don't have a particular aversion to lines. When I go with Heather we have a 20-minute limit our lines, guided by a variety of phone apps (which usually don't entirely agree with each other). We've got our strategy down to a science: rope drop, Fastpasses, pin trading during the busy hours. Lots and lots of walking. Last summer when we were there we averaged 12 miles a day. When I'm on my own or with friends I don't mind lines up to an hour, especially since the waiting areas are so well themed and so interesting to look at.

What shocked me was that in Japan, people were willing to wait for six hours in line for a single ride. Yep, you read that right. Six hours. 2012, opening of Toy Story Mania in Tokyo. Oh. My. God. 

Seriously - check out that standby time.

Now, if you've not been on it, Toy Story Mania is an amazing ride. You sit in little carts and snake through a 3-D midway of carnival games with your shooter that throws out rings, paint balls, darts, and everything else. There are Easter eggs in the ride for guests in the know, where you can wrack up record-breaking points if you know exactly what to shoot at, and when.

It's awesome. It's always the first ride we run to after rope drop, and the last ride we go on before heading home.

Is it 6 hours waiting worth of awesome? I'm not sure. But I sure as heck wasn't braving these crowds in Tokyo to check out the Japanese version of the ride.

Only three hours from this point!

The Japanese are great with lines and with crowds. They don't seem to mind it the way we do. Kids entertain themselves, people chat with each other. It's genteel. It's orderly. There's a slight buzz in the air. The point is to see it when everyone else sees it. Or, preferably, before everyone else sees it.

Apparently this massive crowd gathering happened when Tokyo Sky Tree, the tallest structure in Japan, opened. The entire population of Tokyo tried to get to it when it opened, leading to three-month wait times just to get in the tower. A friend of mine visiting relatives in Tokyo was put on a bus, driven around the Sky Tree (but not allowed in) and then driven to the Tokyo Tower consolation prize, where he could go up and look at the Sky Tree from the previous highest point in Tokyo.

Yep, Japanese people are tolerant of lines, and tolerant of crowds.

So how does this get back to Shanghai? Well, I'm Chinese, and while I've grown up here in the states there are a few things about my folks I've noticed. We've got all the need to see it first that the Japanese do, and we love an opening. But we don't really have a strong belief in lines. Or social order. Or waiting. It's like a massive, ONE BILLION PERSON free-for-all in China. In other words, I would be afraid for my life on Disney Shanghai opening day. 

I'm sure Disney's park planners are on top of this, and there are logistics in place to handle that massive crush of humanity. If there's one thing they're good at, it's crowd planning. The opening day of Disneyland Park was a disaster of extra people getting in with fake tickets, unruly crowds, and an unprepared park and cast. They've come a long way since those days. If you've never seen how quickly they can dissipate a thousand-person crowd, pay attention sometime when you get out of one of their shows. It's like magic. As nervous as I am about what that will be like in China, I'm really curious to see how far they've evolved in their crowd management, when it comes to managing the toughest crowd in the world.

This Is Japan

It's often said on Disney forums that Disney Tokyo is the best Disney park, because its attention to detail far surpasses any other Disney park. I tend to agree. But I'm starting to realize that a big part of what makes it better are actually the guests who visit Tokyo Disney - often enthusiastic, happy Tokyoites who throw themselves into the entire fantasy world created by an American man half a century ago, half a world away.

If you have any doubts about this, just visit Disney Tokyo at Halloween. It's completely INSANE. The combination of fervent Disney fans with fervent cosplay culture creates, for two weeks a year, a park like you've never seen. If you're thinking "what's the point of seeing an American theme park if I'm in Japan" - well, it's because you will NEVER see anything like this in America. While Americans treat Halloween as a time to dress up to express themselves, Japanese people in Disney collectively dress up to create the fantasy world of Disney inside the park.

Yes. That is real fur trim on the dress.

Disney Tokyo is the only Disney park worldwide that only allows Disney character costumes at Halloween, which means that the illusion of their fantasy world is reinforced by the dedication of the fans who dress up. So not only are you standing in front of Cinderella Castle, you're standing in front of Cinderella Castle surrounded by a hundred princesses, fairy godmothers, evil witches, and princes, many of whom are women who've dressed as men in order to create sets of characters with their friends.

And like the Disney Shibuya store, this isn't an event for children, but for young adults. So all the characters come in two varieties: regular and sexy.

As I suspected, there were no other unique varieties such as the Super Tigger I found in the Anaheim park. That kind of quirk of individualistic expression at Halloween is reserved for us crazy Americans.

People were glad to pose for photos, and would often even thank you for asking. Maybe it's just that Japanese people are super polite, or maybe I had just paid a compliment to their cosplay activities. My biggest challenge to getting good photos was more the lack of a good low-light camera than a lack of cooperation from the wonderfully dressed guests.

I also discovered that if I stopped any group of matching costumes for a photo, other Japanese people would crowd around for their own photos. It's almost like they wanted to ask, but were too polite to interrupt, and the rude American (uh, that's me) made it okay for them to take a photo too. Thus we had scenes like this one, where the group of evil witches from Snow White were trapped for about 10 minutes as a horde of Snow Whites took turns getting their photos taken with the group after I interrupted them to take a snapshot.

Note the Snow White standing off to the right. There are more Snow Whites next to her, all watching and waiting for their turn.

Ditto this group of aliens from Toy Story.

The favorite themes at Halloween were princesses (Cinderella, Belle, Aurora, Snow White with an occasional Rapunzel), Alice (wildly popular) often accompanied by a Queen of Hearts, and Toy Story characters Woody, Jessie, and Buzz.

I wonder how long he practiced his haughty Buzz Lightyear expression.

Villains didn't figure as prominently in Disney Halloween, as I expected. Out of the hundreds of elaborate dressed-up figures, there was one group of villains hanging out by the castle. I guess Japanese people prefer to be the good guys.

What these photos of individual costumes don't show, and what was the most wonderful part of the experience, is the sense of amazement I had seeing these very elaborate costumes everywhere in the park. Every time I turned around I saw someone who had put in more effort, worked up more detail, acting more in character, than I saw before. It was a breathtaking experience.

Yep. That's me in the Tigger outfit. 

If anyone is going to be in Tokyo on Halloween, and they want to know what Japan is about, a trip to Disney Tokyo is a must. While all the characters were created at the Mouse House in the US, there is something undeniably and uniquely Japanese about this experience. This is no pale reproduction of the real thing. This is the real Japan, taking something they like, embracing it, and executing on it like it's never been done before.

A Halloween tour around the world.

One of the wonders of Disney is that they are so effective at spreading American culture freaking everywhere. I mean, people in three different continents know what "Main Street USA" is supposed to look like, have heard barbershop quartets sing, and get immersed in all other kinds of nostalgic Americana. Disney doesn't just spread fairy dust and princesses, it's an engine for sharing the American dream and a lot of American culture.

Halloween is one of those examples. What the heck do Japanese people know about Halloween? But according to this blogger Disney Tokyo and Universal Studios Osaka have been almost the biggest influences in introducing Halloween to this country. As with any localization, they've taken some liberties and made some adjustments. Here are my observations on the flavors of Halloween.

The splash page for Hong Kong is all about chills and thrills at Halloween.

Hong Kong loves scary Halloween. What is it about Chinese people and ghostly spirits? I definitely grew up terrified of ghosts and convinced of their existence. Do Chinese people just like to get scared? They've got spooky trees and headless horsemen and haunted mansions. Plural.

It does seem like Hong Kong Halloween is targeted to adults. And not much emphasis on costumes.

Although Japan apparently have some scary-as-heck concepts of ghosts who are so evil they will kill you just for fun, their Halloween is a lot more upbeat, really cute and somewhat confused with a harvest festival.

Tokyo's idea of Halloween seems much cuter and cheerier than other versions.

Home-made costumes in Japan way surpass other costumes.

As the originator of cosplay, they also have some awesome costumes (seriously, check out the photos in this girl's trip report) and I'm really looking forward to getting a first-hand look at it tonight. Interesting quirk: Tokyo Disney is the only park that ONLY allows Disney costumes. Teenage Ninja Turtles - stay out. Ditto minions.

Somehow, Disney Paris has managed to work fashion into Halloween with a Minnie Couture fashion kind of a thing.

One of many treat stations around Disneyland Anaheim. People pay $64 to spend five hours collecting handfuls of chocolate in the park.

Disney Anaheim, the original American creation, is the place where Halloween is about candy, kids, and whatever thing you've thrown together called a costume. The trick or treating is a big deal, and something people come to the park for. Which I still don't understand, see my previous blog entry. The American parks are also the ones that have this warning on costumes: "Costumes should not contain weapons which resemble or could be easily mistaken for an actual weapon." Presumably because people running around with guns in the park is an actual scenario they've trained for, and they don't want to have to shoot you to protect the other guests.

Costume time in Anaheim.

I had the chance to drop by Disney for a few hours last night and check out the Halloween costume action. For those of you who don't check the Disney web site every week (that would be all of you I'm guessing), Disney throws a giant Halloween party a couple times a week throughout the month of October with dancing and trick-or-treating and almost zero lines in the rides. When I read the Yelp reviews, people say it's abso-freaking-lutely amazing, since they give away so much candy - like, FIVE POUNDS of chocolate in a single night!

It's got to be the most expensive chocolate ever, since even the cheapest party ticket is more than $50, so about $10 per pound of Kit Kats seems a bit steep.

Getting in to see the costumes was pretty cool. I was expecting lots of Disney princesses and villains, but I underestimated the complete free-for-all that is the American Halloween tradition. There were ninja turtles, minions, Batman, and a troupe of about 30 Waldo's on a scavenger hunt. At least three good Hermione Grangers in Hogwarts robes were running around the park.

At the gate I found the entire cast of Peter Pan, including lost Boys, Indians, Michael, Wendy, even a mermaid. By the way, she can walk around in that. Her legs are in the rock, not in the flippers.

This group was one of my favorites: Super Princesses. They were getting stopped for photos all over the park, including by a group of teenage boys dressed as football players. These princesses don't need saving: they have ass-kicking boots.

Both the Peter Pan and the Super Princess group had hand-made their costumes. Some of the best costumes were hand made and one of a kind.

Not to be outdone, Tigger got into the superhero action. You know the only thing better than a Tigger? A Super Tigger. With a corpse bride.

 This was the most detailed costume set, down to the last details and the skin paint.

I think my favorite would have to be Maleficent though. I always loved her. I did finally find a really awesome Maleficent. This very nice lady had been ambushed by her grandchildren, who insisted she must be a villain at the party and brought her to the park. This photo doesn't do the glowing lights of fire behind her, but her costume is velvet, hand-stitched, with fabulous folds and SEQUINS. She was spectacular.

I wish I had more time to share photos but my flight is boarding to Tokyo, so I'll post more later. Hoping for a few hours once there to check out and compare Japanese Halloween costumes. I can imagine these beautiful hand-made deals, but I do have a hard time imagining a Super Tigger in Tokyo.

Where have all the princesses gone?

One thing you immediately notice about Disney Tokyo is the absolute scarcity of princesses. You'll find a fair share of Minnies, Alices, even an occasional pirate or Mike Wazowski. There's an occasional Snow White or Rapunzel, but they are way outnumbered by the non-royal Disney family.

Contrast this to a typical morning at Disney World in Orlando, where every morning the Princess Parade walks through Downtown Disney, with ladies-in-waiting and cheering crowds, finally ending at the carousel where the princesses take their victory lap on their faithful steed.

I have a couple of theories about this difference - what I call the Princess Gap.

1) If Japanese people really prefer not standing out, the last thing you would want to be is a princess. They're unique, headstrong, and the story (especially modern ones) start and end with them never fitting in as they should. Think Ariel, Belle, Mulan.
2) Dressing up at the parks extends into the adult population, and no adult is going to be walking around as a princess. The kids follow suit.

Or, this is one of the newest theories I'm considering. The younger Japanese generation seem to be turning up their noses at "happily ever after" or even just plain encounters with the opposite sex. 61% of unmarried men and 49% of women aged 18-34 were not in any kind of romantic relationship. 33% of Japanese people don't believe in marriage. The Japan Family Planning Association learned that 45% of women and more than a quarter of men "were not interested in or despised sexual contact."

Whoa.

So much for Prince Charming or his blushing bride. Is it possible that the falling birth rate in Japan has to do with the Princess Gap?

Pirates don't need princes.

By the way, the falling birth rate leads to other interesting challenges for the future of Disney Japan, which so far they seem to be handling well. But I'll leave that for another day.

In Japan: The Joy of Belonging

I can't believe it's almost been three weeks since my last post! It's not for the lack of things to write about, really! Things have just been a little busy. But I did manage to make it into the Tokyo parks during my two-week stay in Japan. In all, I managed an 8-hour day at Disney and two six-hour days, and brought home plenty of photos and stories to share.

One of the things I really love about Japanese culture is that they don't have that rigid adherence to individuality and uniqueness that Americans do. I remember someone telling me in high school (in Southern California) that if they ever showed up at a party and saw someone else wearing the same dress, they would turn around and go home. Because, you know, a girl needs to be unique.

In Japan it seems to almost be the opposite. Fitting in and finding comfort in similarities seem to be the norm, and they seem so happy at it. Going to Disney was something that groups of girls did - teens and 20's seemed to be most common - and they did it in style. Together. In identical ears and shirts and sometimes even socks and shoes.

So much of these visitor's enjoyment seemed to come from being girly together and being dressed up. I was truly jealous of the kind of goofy dress-up fun they were having together. This led to a rather unwise decision to purchase a Tigger outfit. But alas, I was a Tigger of one.

Minnie seemed to be the most popular, but Alice is also doing well Or, at least I think these were Alices. I don't seem to remember the cartoon version wearing such revealing skirts.

And, unless you think the dressing up is completely in the realm of grown-ups, there were adorable matching children as well. In particular, this group of Huey, Dewey, and Louie were running around the park. I looked for the outfits in the many shops, thinking I'd buy one (for whom??? I don't even have kids! but it was so cute...) I think this was from a previous season of kids' clothing though. 

I sat behind these two Alices for most of an hour as we waited for the Halloween parade to start. Boy are Japanese kids patient. They entertained themselves and danced around in their dresses the whole time.

Which reminds me. I need to write about how many Alices there are in Tokyo, and how few princesses. Compare that to the Princess Parade that was Disney Orlando. There must be something kind of reasoning behind about how different cultures choose different characters to idolize. I'm not sure the Japanese believe in princesses, or at least the Disney version of it. 

Disney: It's not for kids anymore.

I'm in Tokyo doing a combination sustainable-seafood-Facebook-ads research run. The original plan was to spend the weekend at Disneyland and Disneysea, but I traded those days to go spend some time on a tuna boat in south Japan. Much as I love Disney, when else does one get to go on a tuna boat? One fisherman I met in Tokyo last year grumbled that he should open the real Disneysea. Anyways, bottom line: no Disney weekend for me.

Fortunately, the Tokyo parks have an "After 6 Pass" - about half price for entry after 6pm.  We don't have this option in the US. I'd been wondering why, and I think I might have figured it out, not at the park, but at the store.

Since I don't have time for a full day of Disney for observations, I'm improvising while in Tokyo. Last night I went to the Disney store in Shibuya. This whimsical 3-story castle is stuffed full of Disney merchandise, and two things immediately stood out when I walked in:

1) Unlike American Disney stores, this one is not a princess palace. Instead, there are iPhone covers, leather purses, jewelry, and stationary. They feature Mickey, Minnie, and Duffy for the most part, with an occasional Alice apron or jewelry box.

2) Granted it was 8pm on a Wednesday night, so things probably look different on weekends. But there wasn't a single child under 16 in the entire store. Instead, young couples strolled hand in hand, friends (mostly groups of 2-4 women, but there were a few teenage boys) browsed through the products, laughing together at the inventiveness found in the store.

I have a hard time imagining young American couples wanting to go to the Disney store together.

It's a different kind of Disney here. This is a Disney not targeted at 6-year-old girls with dreams of being a princess. No, no no. This is a Disney solidly targeted at the 20 to 30 year old market: young people looking for cute things. And by the way, cute - kawaii - is completely acceptable in Japan. For grown ups, for men, for everyone. I watched a group of 20 year old boys picking out Disney-themed pens near the check-out.

So I think this explains the After 6 Pass. There's no sense offering it to parents after a hard day of work, with kids who need to go school the next day. It makes a lot of sense to provide a place for young adults to go, especially in this culture of cute.

This Is Not a Good Sign

My friend Rainne has a Tumblr site called "This Is Not a Good Sign." I'd like to submit this Disney poster for her blog, because truly, this is not a good sign.

A little background first. Heather and I just got back from our Disneyland trip. This was our first trip since the opening of Cars Land. For the record, Heather and I love love LOVE Cars Land. More specifically, we love that it attracts all the people away from our favorite ride, Toy Story Mania, leaving the ride deserted and unloved, like an old toy. Our old toy, that we so dearly love.

If you're not already familiar with it, Toy Story Mania is a midway-like simulation dark ride where you wear 3D glasses while riding through a series of ring tossing, ball throwing, dart shooting arcades. It's great fun and guaranteed to wear out your arm. I got a blister on my finger from a particularly frenzied attack on the last round of mine carts. If you've not been on it, I'd highly recommend it for your next Disney trip.

At the entrance to Paradise Pier. No crowds!

So anyways, back to the poster. There are a series of "vintage" midway posters about the games on the ride, and this beauty is one of them. I love attention to detail Disney is so famous for. Paradise Pier is built to look and feel like a Victorian beach boardwalk, with matching posters and people dressed in period costume, and the effect is enchanting.

Perhaps in Victorian innocence, Flying Tossers should get a bye, but I do crack up every time we go past the poster again. I get it - Flying Tossers, flying saucers. It's a ring toss game themed around aliens. But I wonder if the designers ever knew what it meant, or had a laugh about all the Brits visiting California, wondering why there's a game of Flying Tossers to play with their children.

Three days!!!

When my niece was eight, I told her that I would take her to Disney World - when she was twelve. "That's half my life!" she complained. To an eight year old, four years seemed like an eternity. But we did go to Disney World, and for every year after that, Heather and I have had our thing - Disneyland. Once a year, just me and her. I have the best aunt job ever.

BugVision glasses on, waiting underground for our first "It's Tough to be a Bug" show.

Of course there are other close people in my life - Rob, Thomas, Alice - who also enjoy Disney but Heather is my Disney Twin. If we lived in the Pacific Rim world, we would be mentally compatible for drift, and effortlessly crush any Kaiju coming our way. As long as our way was Disneyland.

She understands the park the same way I do. You have a plan, hit the park early, always do rope drop, make use of Fast Passes, pin trade when the crowds come in and then retreat to your cool hotel room with a bucket of Tony Roma's ribs to watch TV and relax until the crowds disperse and the park is yours again. We've been doing this for three years and we've got it down. I look forward to this trip ALL YEAR. This year has the added bonus that she's started watching Star Trek: Voyager, so we can watch it together in the afternoons. Disney, Star Trek, more Disney. I feel faint just thinking about it.

Little girls who think they're princesses don't get more excited than I do about Disney.

We got delayed this year because of conflicting schedules, but managed to squeeze this in ahead of her first day of high school and my business trip. We leave in three days, and I am beyond all reasonable levels of excited. Little girls who think they're princesses going to a real magic kingdom don't get more excited than this. I've been going through my pin collection, pulling out my least favorite ones for trade. Which Ursula should I keep? Do I break up the Muppets? What are my chances of finding a Baloo to keep Mowgli and Colonel Hathi company?

A few of the hundred or so pins I've collected since our first Disney trip together.

And I've been studying the Disney line wait times for two weeks, using all three apps I downloaded from the iTunes store. Radiator Springs runs out of Fast Passes early, so we'll need to grab one in the morning. Not before hitting Toy Story Mania though, because those lines also build in the morning and there are no Fast Passes there. California Screamin' seems to have lost much of its lines to the opening of Cars Land, so we could grab a Fast Pass for that one on our way out of Toy Story Mania, and still be able to get one for Radiator Springs ten minutes later.

Are you keeping up with all this? If you are, I'd like to know, because if you're tracking this we're probably Disney compatible too.

So. Three days. Between me and the trip stand two 12-14 hour work days, but I'm keeping my eyes on the prize. 

Completely Irrational Decisions

For the longest time I've wanted a Disney annual pass. The idea of being able to waltz in and out of the park without trying to "get your money's worth," is pretty appealing. At $86 a pop for a day at the Magic Kingdom and an hour in line for each of the good rides, you end up packing your day from morning to night. Which is what most people do, making the exodus after the fireworks at midnight look more like a scene from Night of the Living Dead than anything else.

You can almost see Cinderella Castle behind this crowd. All this pictures needs is some strollers and mouse balloons.

But Disney is clever about their pricing. Their annual passport costs just a little more than a two trips on a typical multi-day pass. Their premier passport, providing access to both Anaheim and Orlando locations, won't let you break even until you've taken four trips in a year. Which, by the way, is $979 + tax. Over a thousand dollars. An entire four digits worth of Disney. I live nowhere within driving distance of a Disney. Am I really going to fly four times so I can make use of that pass?

And yet, if I'm ever going to experience that magical feeling like I belong to that exclusive annual passholders club, it should be this year. My year of Disney! Watching and observing Disney people do Disney things! Surely I need keys to the Kingdom to take this on, right?

(I don't really. I calculated it out. It's actually cheaper to buy a a multi-day pass to each park once. But after seeing the numbers I realized that it wasn't why I wanted the passport. And I think Disney knows that. It's not about being practical, it's about being part of something and that feeling of being part of Disney - like a member.)

TWO castles! Six parks and two water parks! If I were a kid I'd be throwing a tantrum for this right now.

So here I am stuck in indecision. I am leaving for Disneyland in six days, so I better have decided by then because if I'm going to buy a pass now is the time.

By the way, I'm also mad at them, because they don't sell a Disney global pass, and what kind of business misses the chance to wave such an aspirational WANT in front of their rabid fans? There always should be a completely unreasonable top-end item that keeps their customer base aspiring.

So your honest opinion - would it be completely irrational DINKy spoiled brat of me to get a premier passport?

The beginning

That's me in the center there with the haircut like a boy, being squashed beyond an enthusiastic mother, a sister (blocked) and a giant Goofy, who looks like he's about to eat my sister.

When I was six years old, my family moved to Nicaragua in search of a better life, fleeing the instability of the new Taiwanese government and endless threats of communist Chinese attack. That decision proved to be a bit of a mistake, as no more than a month passed after our arrival before the Sandinistas started shooting things. I don't remember much of that, bits and pieces about flashes and bangs and lying down on the floor when the fighting got close. But mostly I remember the mango grove behind our house and the giant iguanas that roamed around everywhere and the occasional scorpion that made all the adults freak out. 

My parents got us on the last commercial flight out of the country, apparently using some creative navigation to get through some overturned burning buses on our journey to the airport, landing in Miami with a few suitcases and $400 hidden in their shoes. That first night in a Miami hotel I can remember even with my shoddy memory, sitting there watching the news without understanding a word, while eating pork and beans warmed in a tub of hot water and bread toasted over our bedside lamp. Then there was a long, seemingly endless Greyhound journey north where I cried a lot because...well, apparently I just cried a lot in those days and was a pain in the neck. My parents didn't know how long we could stay in this country, but by golly now that we were here they were going to take their kids to Disney World before we were all deported. We got the cheapest tickets into the park, the ones with limited tickets to rides (remember E-tickets???), but it must have cost us $40 even back in 1979. My parents spent ten percent of everything they owned to give us those precious days. Even now, whenever I'm thinking evil thoughts about various perceived parental hurts inflicted on my childhood, I remind myself - Disney World. Remember what they did at Disney World. I think it might also be where I picked up that bit of carpe diem in my personality which is leading me to pursue this crazy dream today.

I remember only little bits of that trip. The wonder at Cinderella Castle. The crushing disappointment that Snow White, my favorite princess at the time, turned out to be not at all princess-looking but a bit old and freckly. It was a serious blow because we had spent all day hoping to find her at the park and until I saw her I had been convinced she was real. 

The world Walt Disney had created was real to me. I had seen the movies Fantasia and Snow White. I was convinced that the evil witch popping up repeatedly in the Snow White dark ride was out to kill me, and I kept my hands clamped firmly over my mouth so that she wouldn't slip me a piece of poison apple while I was looking at something else. My parents and sister tormented me about my fear of ghosts in the Haunted Mansion. We had ice cream cones and rode around in the first row of the horse-drawn carriage down Main Street.

This was America.

That's my mom in the corner, looking so stylish in her best suit and sunglasses.

It was the kind of America we dreamed about. Mei guo - "Beautiful Country" - with cute storefronts and clean streets and smiling people and endless possibilities. I was a kid, so I probably didn't have that kind of a dream. I probably dreamed about castle and princesses and endless rides and ice cream cones. But even then, I think the effect of being in America, in the most American of all places, really got into part of my psyche and stayed there.

After Disney World, there was Disneyland as my family moved to California and got settled and earned citizenship. And then more trips back to Orlando in my college and young adult years. And last year, my first trip to Disney Tokyo, where I binged on too many flavors of popcorn. But what always blows my mind is that first experience, the power that the Disney brand had over a family with almost no money from Taiwan, who thought it was worth it to spend ten percent of everything they owned to see Disney World. My parents. My conservative, fiscally responsible parents. Even back in 1979, the global force was already there. It hadn't yet grown up and expanded its theme parks into Asia and Europe, become the entertainment juggernaut it is today, yet the magic already had reach into all the corners of our small world. 

I want to be a part of that magic somehow. I've wanted to work for Disney for pretty much my entire adult life. When I was in college and a mechanical engineering student I poured all my energy into the ImagiNations competition, hoping to win a summer internship with the Imagineers. I won a t-shirt after four weeks of sweat and tears. As an independent consultant I've met people from Disney at business functions and conferences. But nothing ever came of those meetings, and I'm starting to fear that I will never find that Disney project of my dreams. So here goes: I'm making that project. My client is me and there's no project budget and the expectations are high, but so what. It's time to wish upon that star.

I don't remember this picture being taken. But it says "Cinderella Fountain," so I'm pretty sure this was taken in Orlando. But who is that giant rabbit??? He looks like something that a Disney knock-off in China might have created, or one of those creepy creatures that walk around at a Six Flags. If you have a clue about this, let me know.

This Was the Epiphany

I was sitting in the Little Mermaid musical at Tokyo DisneySea, watching Ariel and her fishy friends flip through the air singing "Part of Your World." I had retreated to Disney after two weeks of trying to understand Japanese culture for a research project, and I was, frankly, Japanesed out. I was tired of eating fish for breakfast and remembering to change slippers between the living room and the bathroom and listening to people who weren't just speaking a foreign language but were trying to communicate completely foreign concepts in that foreign language. I was just tired.

Any Disney castle makes me feel like a kid again.

So I went to the most American place I could think of, the place where I might feel most at home for just a day and not think about all things Japanese before I went back into Japanese empathy for one last week. I went to Disneyland and DisneySea.

Where I sat now watching, enraptured by the puppetry and the singing and the sensation that I was on the sea floor with mermaids and fish dancing above me. Completely, utterly transported, until suddenly my research took a dive straight into Ariel's grotto. Our headstrong heroine rebuffed the sea witch, decided that land wasn't so great after all, her family and friends were more important, and lived happily ever after underwater.

Wait, what the **** just happened?

Yet there Ursula was, retreating into the shadows, while Sebastian's band started kicking up the first toe-tapping measures of the "Under the Sea" finale.   Twisting around to see if I was the only person who noticed, I saw everyone had the same expression that I had, 30 seconds before The Little Mermaid got a major makeover. No one noticed that this was a major change to the story. And then it was over.

Clutching my translator unit, I stumbled out of the auditorium. I must have missed something, was the only thing I could think. Disney would never allow this kind of story change. I must have misread the translation.

So I did the only thing I could do, because it would have bugged me forever otherwise - I turned around and walked back into the auditorium for the next showing. Ariel emerged, brushing her hair and dreaming of land. Ursula shows up, offering a chance to live a new life above ground. Nope, no mistranslation there. Ariel is coming to the realization that following her dream would mean leaving everything she knows behind. And she decides to stay. Again.

How very Japanese of her.

Weeks of being in Japan, and I was never able to connect 

this subway sign with anything I'd learned. If anyone knows 

how this makes sense, please tell me!

All week people in Japan have been telling me about insularity, belonging to your group and staying loyal to it above all else. Students didn't do foreign exchange. Being different and risking everything for a dream was not an ideal anyone subscribed to. I had nodded and wrote it down and thought I understood. I just didn't realize how deeply those ideas permeated the society.

That was the epiphany. I realized there that nowhere do cultural differences emerge as strongly as the environment you're most familiar with, transplanted to another country. You read about these cultural differences in guidebooks and research articles. But it's not the same as seeing two versions of the same thing, translated into its own culture.

My name is Ana. I'm 40 years old. (! - when did that happen?) And I really, really want to go to Disneyland. And Disney World. And Disney Sea. And Euro Disney. And even Hong Kong Disney, which all the Disney fans say is only worth half a day of your time at most. But I don't care, because I really, really want to go see how they've all been transformed by their native countries. Barbecue pork bun instead of smoked turkey legs? What do Country Bears sing in Hong Kong? And how will the French handle all the fast food served in theme parks???

This is my new project. I am giving myself a year. I am going to do a world tour of Disney.