The Nippon 5-0, or, a Run-In with Japanese Police

Just an hour ago I was still at the police station, answering questions.

I don't even know where to start telling the story...

I met up with a friend for a couple of drinks in Shibuya, and around 12:30am I was back at Mitaka station, bending over my bicycle to unlock it. I noticed two huge and beautiful dogs a few feet away from me, so I paused to look at them, and when I turned back there were two police officers walking in my direction. I didn't think anything of it; then one of them spoke to me.

Are you a university student? no. He was smiling, and I thought he just wanted to practice English. He turned to his partner and spoke, and then turned back to me and, in Japanese, asked to see my Gaijin card. It's something Gaijin (foreigners) always have to have. If you don't have it, it's grounds for arrest. I had mine. I showed it to the officer, he smiled and said, ah - Americajin! Then they both started poking around my bike. One officer - the younger one - was inputting information into some handheld computer thing. The older one was asking me questions, including - where did you get it? Tomodachi (friend), I said.

All Japanese bicycles are registered. Mine isn't. A friend gave it to me, and she got it from a Japanese man who got it from a recycle shop. It's not been registered. I wasn't too worried though. I didn't do anything wrong, and I figured it would become obvious to the officers that I hadn't stolen it. But they were taking a while to come to that conclusion. I asked if there was a problem with my bike, and the elderly officer indicated that I was to accompany them to the koban, the area police station. This whole time he was apologizing to me - gomenne (gomen nasai - I'm sorry), sumimasen (excuse me). Gomenne, gomenne. At first I was like, daijo bu, no problem. But after a while I got confused, then angry. Why are you apologizing? Stop apologizing. You obviously think I'm a criminal. Either do your job and don't apologize or let me go! This was all in my head, of course.

At the station I started freaking out a little. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but it's common knowledge among Gaijin in Tokyo that the police are often racist against foreigners. If something happens involving a foreigner and a Japanese person, it's automatically the fault of the Gaijin. If a crime is committed against a Gaijin, it's not uncommon for the police to hardly feel bothered to investigate, much less make an attempt to prosecute. To add fuel to my mental fire, in last week's Metropolis (a widely read English-language magazine) ran an article about police mistreatment and downright neglect of Gaijin and crimes against Gaijin.

At the station the older officer led me into a back room, all the while dropping gomenne, gomenne. They started asking me more questions, in Japanese, and an officer who spoke a little office came to the back and attempted to communicate. At that point I thought to call a Japanese friend who lives in Mitaka, near the station. I texted him, called him 3 times, and left a message. I couldn't get a hold of him, and I was trying not to get frantic. I mean, yeah I was sitting in the police station but I knew there was nothing they could get me on. My bike is unregistered but that also means I didn't steal it. But still, it was hard not to freak a little bit.

So, I was back there freaking out a little bit and growing in anger. The old officer was sitting across from me, smoking, still saying gomenne, gomenne. Although to his credit he did offer me something to drink. During my unsuccessful attempts at reaching my friend (tomodachi nihonjin I told them, pointing to my phone) they called around and found an office where someone spoke English. So, I spoke to an officer in English. He bombarded me with questions!

Your bicycle is unregistered, where did you get it? Where does that person live? When did they leave? Where did they go? When did you get the bicycle? Did you pay for it? Was it free?
I explained to the officer that I got it from a friend who got it from a Japanese man who got it from a recycle shop. She gave it to me before she left Japan to return home to Oregon, a couple of weeks ago. I answered all of his questions except the ones about payment. In fact, I asked the officer why that was relevant. He never answered, just indicated that I should return the phone to the nearest Japanese speaker. Shortly after that the officer got up and left the room saying, gomenne, kiotsukete (take care). I was just like ok, so I can go? No one answered, so I got up and left. On my way out the small crowd of officers there were all saying arigato and kiotsukete. Not one person said a thing to me about registering my bike - no words of caution, no information on how to register. They didn't even ask the person on the phone to tell me.

At this point I was pretty confused and angry, but I returned a couple of kiotsuketes, a thank-you, hopped on my bike and left; propelled home on my anger, smarting from the experience.

Because Misery Loves Company

I'm not actually miserable - maybe an approximation of it, but not the real thing. I have the flu! And I am so far from home. I don't really think this post is going to be interesting, but if you have nothing better to do, please humor me for a minute (or 5).

I didn't really realize how sick I was for 2 days. I went to work, and I was really tired, and achy and coughing, etc... then somebody I know mentioned the flu and I googled it - and lo and behold! The symptoms for the flu matched what I had.

So I called in sick today, which sucks because that means I won't get paid, but that's the preferable option over going to work and actually feeling miserable.

The thing is - I'm really bad at being sick. I never know what to do, and inevitably I try to pretend that I'm not sick which results in actions like going to work for 2 days and not getting better, if not getting worse.

So, what is it like being sick in Tokyo? Well, first of all, I don't know the first thing about what medicine to buy here - which is why I brought a small sampling of medicine with me - NyQuil, DayQuil, and Sudafed. I also don't really know anything about seeing a doctor. I considered talking to the Nova Foreign Personnel about it when I called in sick this morning, but the man on the other end of the line practically cut me off in his rush to hang up.

Thankfully, I was able to get advice from some people. One student told me to be sure to wear pajamas. Another student recommended that I eat rice seasoned with garlic, soy sauce and hot water. A couple of American friends also gave me advice - sleep a lot and drink lots of water! It seems simple enough. So, that's what I'm trying to do, and there is another piece of advice I could give myself - don't forget to eat!

Americana

I was in Kichijoji earlier today, just chillin, ambling towards Tower Records when I happened upon a J. Crew. !!! I was so surprised and so pleased. Gap is all over Tokyo, and I've seen a couple of Banana Republics, but this was the first J. Crew. When I walked in it was like a breath of fresh air washed over me. I saw ribbed tank tops! Polo shirts! Twin sets! There were classic collared button-down shirts and madras prints galore.

Now, you're probably like, wtf Adelle - you're in Tokyo and you're that excited over J. Crew?

Well, let me tell you something. While Tokyo trends certainly are interesting, they certainly are not the be-all end-all of fashion. For one, within Tokyo, everyone dresses the same. There are about 4 or 5 uniforms that float around, with little-to-no variation on a given uniform.

• the above-the-knee 3/4 sleeve bubble-hem dress, worn with EITHER a long sleeve turtle neck underneath OR a long sleeve button up shirt trimmed with lace - most often up the placket - and a cropped collar; usually accompanied with knee high socks and embellished pumps or slouch boots and a long multi-strand bauble necklace.

• the tunic with leggings and slouch boots; underneath the tunic is the long sleeve turtleneck or the laced-trimmed, cropped collar, button up shirt; same bauble necklace.

• and the girls who look like whorish Barbie dolls. Lots of make up, super teased hair, short tight skirts, knee high socks, embellished heels, tight shirts; lots of lace and super-girly touches. In America people would assume you're walking the streets at nights; in Tokyo you're just going shopping with your friends - in the middle of the day.

Living in the midst of this, I do appreciate American fashion sensibilities. Less can indeed be more, a concept which seems altogether foreign in Tokyo. There is even a segment of American style that is immune to the runway. Browsing both J. Crew and Banana Republic today I realized that there are styles that American stores will continue to offer regardless of the trends. I'm not just talking about basics like ribbed tanks or cashmere sweater sets; or even the concept of preppy. American dressing is often clean, fresh; accented, but minimally adorned. Even on the runway - look at Calvin Klein, Michael Kors, Ralph Lauren. There is a consistent aesthetic - one reminiscent of preppy but that certainly goes beyond it - independent of international trends. When at times I become numb to the Tokyo uniforms, it is that independence and individuality of sorts that I find most refreshing.

World Briefing

Reports of failed states and war-torn societies dominates most of the news on sub-Saharan Africa, but there are also great examples of highly successful states. Here are three:

For one, Botswana is highly successful - with steady elections since the 1960s, a functioning economy and a government that offers social services; plus, they've refused aid from the World Bank and the IMF, choosing instead to have full control over their government and policies.

The upper region of Somalia, Somaliland, is "The Other Somalia: An Island of Stability in a Sea of Chaos." Although not internationally recognized as independent, they have a separate goverment, currency and passport from the rest of Somalia. They have a functioning economy and even offer social services. Clan violence, which plagues the rest of Somalia, has largely been solved by a legislative system that includes clan elders and elected representatives. And again, they have done all of this without international aid.

In Niger, "Trees and Crops [are Turning] Back the Desert." What a victory for the people and the environment!

An Intentional Accident

Something happened on Saturday - and it didn't really involve me, but it's been on my mind ever since.

A friend and I were on the train, on our way to meet up with a friend in Shibuya, when the most annoying thing ever happened - an impromptu announcement was made. Some people got off the train, and yet others continued to get on. Inevitably these unplanned announcements are about delays but we never really know what’s going on. Except that we do. In Japan trains run on time but sometimes there are accidents; accidents being the neat Japanese euphemism for suicides.

Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the world, and as grotesque as this will sound, the trains are the number one method to this end. One of the train lines that I live on, the Chuo line, is dubbed the ‘Suo’ line because it’s the most popular line for suicides. Why? Because it is the line with the cheapest clean-up costs for the family. Sometimes people talk about a ‘chuo-cide’ and (urban) (Tokyo) legend has it that there is one stretch along the Chuo line with the highest density of ‘accidents’ because that is where the express train reaches top speed and thus where death is potentially the most quick and painless.

It’s peculiar to participate in this. While referring to suicides as accidents certainly removes people from the reality of the action, everybody is drawn in. For example, although the Chuo line is the most frequent line at my station I don’t take it because it is also the most unreliable. If there is an ‘accident’ I could miss my connection and be late to work. It’s not that ‘accidents’ happen every day, but especially because I can’t make an educated decision about what to do when there is a delay (I just don’t have enough Japanese) it is not a risk that makes sense for me to take.

When I am caught in a delay, I’m immediately annoyed and worried if I’ll be able to get to my destination on time (the majority of the delays I’ve experienced have been on my way to work). But to stop and think I realize – somebody just died. Not only did they die, they were so miserable they killed themselves.

Granted, suicide doesn’t have the taboo in Japan that it does in America, and misery might not have the same meaning. It can certainly arise from a completely different set of circumstances. Ritual or honor suicide is embedded in Japanese history and to this day conformity, honor and shame are extremely potent in modern Japanese society. I know that I understand relatively very little of Japan’s past, but even knowing that context I feel that people kill themselves over issues that do not merit suicide.

In my nearly 6 months in Japan I’ve experienced a small handful of delays, but Saturday was different. My friend and I were sitting on the train weakly attempting to weigh the situation after the announcement ended; hoping aloud that somebody would tell us in English what was going on. The woman next to me turned around and said “there has been an accident; they don’t know how long it will take.” She then exited the train.

That is what got me thinking. This is the first time I’ve heard a Japanese person talk about the so-called ‘accident’ at hand. The ease with which she explained it really struck me. In Japan train ‘accidents’ are accepted as a fact of life. In fact, not too long ago a student and I were discussing the relative merits of the Keio line versus the Chuo line and while I was measuring their worth by the time of their last train, he simply stated, ‘the Keio line has less accidents.’ This is just one small example – and many instances like this have passed without unduly capturing my attention – but that particular moment spoke volumes to me. Maybe the woman rushed off the train to hide her emotion, perhaps to shed a tear; she probably didn’t. But honestly, I can’t say that I did either.

Great Moments in Japan

About 10 minutes ago I had just come downstairs to silence the whistling tea kettle and enjoy a nice cup of sweetened green tea. I put the water over the tea leaves, let it sit for a few minutes, poured it into the cup and added sugar. I took the first sip, ready to enjoy the tea. But intstead of being nice and sweet it was gross and salty! I immediatly spit it out, it was digusting. Instead of putting in sugar I had put in salt. It's not even that I reached for the wrong white granulated substance - I bought the wrong white granulated substance! The funny thing is, I've successfully purchased sugar before, but I've never bought salt. Well, now I guess I have.