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.