This post is a response to Seth Stevenson's "5 Days of Disney" Well-Traveled article over at Slate. I'm as much a cynic as the next angst-ridden twentysomething, but I found the bitterness over Seth's trip to Disneyworld as best misinformed and at worst just whiny.
Last Spring Break (2007), I had the wonderful opportunity to travel to Disneyworld with my mother. (My friends were just too busy getting wasted on beaches.) So I decided I would do my own version of "5 Days At Disney."
DAY 1-Resort and Epcot
One of my least favorite parts of a supposedly relaxing vacation is the very beginning and the very ending. Dragging myself out of bed so I can stumble to the airport at 5 am, and then sit in the terminal for 2 hours is just not my cup of tea. Generally I enjoy the people-watching; but mornings filled with metal detectors, screaming kids (this is a flight to Orlando, after all) and pushing my luggage along in a line that stretches half a block back inexplicably puts me in a bad mood. Arriving is little better, though it is great to step onto a plane in frigid weather (Minneapolis) and step off into blissful warm weather (Orlando!) From the plane, we were escorted right into a line, which then escorted us onto one of the numerous buses lined outside the airport, each sporting an unique and obnoxious full-length ad of some attraction or another. Stepping onto that bus signaled the end of my vacation independence... already, Disney demanded that they help me, even though I am quite capable of putting my luggage under the bus myself. I am a mover by nature-and now I was forced to sit in a luxurious bus with felt-lined, itchy seats while watching a cheerful "Welcome to Disney" video (in English, Spanish, and Japanese-considerate.) Worst yet, I've been on enough bus vacations to know that karma declares my resort will be last stop.
I was right, though it turned out this wasn't as soul-crushing as I predicted. My mother loves Mexican- and Southwestern- cultures (she would go back to Mexico every year if she could) so we opted for the moderate Coronado Resort. On the bus ride, we were able to get a glimpse of other resorts-the cheaper but more kid-friendly Pop Century resort (avant garde/pop-style buildings as far as the eye can see) or more expensive and sophisticated Polynesian resort. The sheer length of the bus ride was surprising as well-though given how far apart the resorts were, maybe not. Perhaps it was just a way to confuse possible deflecting guests. We shall never know.
Upon arrival to the resort, we checked in, and wandered around the resort as we waited for our luggage to arrive. I have been to Mexico (Cancun and Playa del Carmen) about three or four times in my life, and the resort was the first time I was genuinely impressed. Not only did the resort look like Mexican resorts (complete with fake peeling paint), it SMELLED like Mexican resorts. That spicy, organic smell-the resort was filled with it.
By the time my mother and I took in the two pools (with a small cat nap at each,) and the vast walking trails around the lake, our luggage had arrived.
For dinner, we decided on Epcot; as a Japanese minor, I was dying for some good sushi, a food lacking in a small Wisconsin college town. The bus spot at our resort was only two buildings away, and we waited less than 10 minutes, although we hadn't checked the schedule. The effectiveness of the buses also amazed me-my city's buses didn't even run this well. We stopped only at the other bus stops at our resort, and then it was onto Epcot-and fortunately, this bus had done away with felt-lined seats, substituting the smooth plastic ones and open space for crowds.
Ever since I visited Disneyworld freshman year of high school with my entire extended family, Epcot has been one of my favorite parks. Specifically, the World Showcase. I am a culture nut, and it sends a little thrill through me to see all my favorite cultures and countries packed into one area. When I graduated from high school, my grandparents took me on a two week excursion through England and France. London became one of my favorite cities in the world; despite the artificial facade of the UK, I still love the World ShowCase. It reminds me of the adventures I had on the other side of the Atlantic. In fact, I find France in Epcot a whole lot more inviting than France in France. (Though that is a story for another time.)
Best of all, I could test out my rusty language skills on actual foreign speakers that are not my professors-ordering a chocolate eclair as a snack from Epcot staff who seemed delighted to hear their own language spoken back at them, no matter how slaughtered, and trying to chat in Japanese with a chef in Epcot Japan who was trying very hard not to laugh at my mispronuncation. In my mind, the World ShowCase was not a fill-in for actual culture, but a reminder that there are other cultures out there, and that here are some distinguishing characteristics of them. The acknowledgement of cultures, even painted with a broad brush if done with genuine affection, is better than no acknowledgement at all. Besides-where else could I buy Japanese import items such as marked down manga volumes that haven't been released in English yet?
For dinner, we ate in Japan, at my insistence. I grabbed a photo below a sign reading "Irasya" for my sensei, and they seated us at a tempai-style table, where the meals are prepared in front of you. Seated beside us was a mother, father, and daughter from New York City. They regaled us with stories of coming to Disneyworld every year, as well as hopping into the Bahamas for golf (and getting trapped in by a hurricane.) The 14 year old daughter, looking pained to be sitting by such "embarrassing" parents promptly put my French to shame with her immersion skills. I really must visit New York sometime-they seem to have nothing but wealthy, culturally-educated people. (And homeless, of course.) I drank a cup of sake, we applauded the chef who had been working at Disney 15+ years, and we all moved outside to watch the Fireworks, though our seat was better the second night.
The end of the night proved a little more hectic, as guests scrambled onto a monster line of buses back to their resorts. It was a strange feeling, as we all waited in line at the end of the night-the resorts were drastically different in prices, and some extremely exclusive. Yet looking at the families and couples and retirees standing in different lines, waiting to go to the exclusive resort or the value-friendly resort, you wouldn't know the difference. Each resort seemed to have a decent percentage of couples, families, races, elderly, and groups of friends representing. Standing in the lines at Epcot, I wondered if Disney wasn't, in a way, the great equalizer; in the World ShowCase, each country had the same amount of space and the same level of importance (though China and Mexico are perhaps the most impressive-looking). Out here beyond the gates, the same thing could be said.
Stayed tuned for Day 2-Epcot again!
