Tokyo Commuter

Cultural Rebellion

As I prepare to return to the  U.S., I find my subconscious preparing for the re-entry. I now walk only on the right side of the sidewalk, even if I have to knock down on-coming pedestrians. I speak English more often, even if it creates communication catastrophes. I am less patient with the customs of train conductors.

Slouching into Maturity

Soon, companies in Japan will induct new graduates into their companies. The trains will be full of giddy young folks, on their way to their new jobs. The first two weeks will be playful, sitting in meetings and partying in the evenings with the other new inductees. The young men will be learning how to comb the mops on their heads, the young women how to walk in a suit and heels. They will all pretend to be adults. Then suddenly the orientation will be period will be over, and they will be adults, weighed down by the cares and responsibilities of adulthood. Their shoulders will soon begin to slump as the train lurches and chugs toward the gray-walled offices each day.

Too little information

The reason I am late getting home is because I got lost in Tokyo station tonight. I’ve walked through this station hundreds of times over the years, but decided to come from a different direction. I just followed the signs, but the direction signage was designed and placed by an evil person who will have to answer for his actions someday. Maybe he feels insecure about his marriage or he is angry that the sports team he supports got whipped. So we are all his victims. Should I say “he or she?” I think not, as everyone with the authority to hang train stations is male.

Japanese trains peeve me

My single biggest peeve related to Tokyo commuting is how the stations are constructed.

No one who is allowed to give input on the construction or modification of Japanese train stations has even been handicapped or known a handicapped person, has ever met an elderly person, has ever known someone who had children. And none of them could have possibly ever been children. None of them have ever walked in high heels or carried luggage such as a briefcase. Otherwise they would design the stations to accomodate people other than young men who are traveling alone and empty handed and who like to be compressed next to other people. And no one who works for a train company has ever ridden a train.

Tonight I was in a train car that was full of people who wanted to sit more than they wanted air. They literally dove across the aisle everytime they thought a seat might become available.

Close quarters on the train

I have been blogging on this topic for one month now, and I realized today the thrust of the issue. I realized today that my biggest complaint about commuting in Tokyo is my gluteal muscle.

This is an uncomfortable topic, but is at the heart of the matter so must be disclosed. The issue is this: standing in such close proximaty to other passengers, my buns will inevitably be touching other people's buns. I don't like it at all. I have several strategies for posterior confrontations, but the confrontations still do occur sometimes.

This one issue could change my plans in Japan.

Train Life Improving

When I first began commuting to a job in central Tokyo in 1991, the train companies treated people more abominably than now.

The Tokyu Train Company (corporate motto: "there's always room for one more passenger") and Japan Railway (corporate motto: "the passengers are here for our amusement") seem to be running more trains, so they are less crowded. Even the Metro line ("board this train, if you dare") is doing better. Or perhaps it is because I avoid the peak hours.

Coming in to the office after riding a packed train can be very exhausting. How can one be expected to work after expending the entire day's worth of energy just to get to work? So I decided to arrive late every day I can justify it. Now I am much more productive with less time. I am no longer a victim of insensitive train train pushers.

痴漢

The train companies are really cracking down on chikan, or perverts that touch other people on the train. Sounds like Japan is catching up.

But I am concerned about the hypocrisy. The train companies fill the walls with erotic advertisements, pack the passengers up against each other, then they feign surprise when they touch each other.

This week's commute

Coming home yesterday, the train was so crowded that some velcro on my coat became attached to a middle-aged man's sweater. When I tried to de-board, I pulled him off the train with me.

Wednesday, Valentines Day, was even more crowded. My train was cancelled because the wind was blowing. (Japan Railways, JR, really is the least conscientious company on the planet. They could have slowed down the driving speed and been completely safe.) So I found a different train company with more courage, then walked four kilometers from a distant train station to my home so I could be with my valentine.

Response to "Dweebs"

In response to "Dweebs in the Train," an observant reader made this observation: "Pringles must be very popular in Japan because they are "uniformly shaped.  Like they stay in line, and don't try to stand out."

Dweebs on the Train

Japanese culture is very obssessive about teaching people to not eat on the train. So why do I have Pringles* potato chip crumbs in my pockets tonight? Some unruly high school girls sitting next to me on the train were loudly chatting as they stuffed Pringles into their mouths earlier this evening.

All the train commuting rules are suspended for those that ride the train car I happen to be in.

In cross-cultural studies, this is my Dweeb Corollary. It states that the examples/models we use to judge a culture are often the abnormal members of that culture. When one visits a foreign land, the non-mainstream people often gravitate toward the visitor. So our information-collecting and analysis functions are skewed.

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* clarification: we all know that Pringles are not potato chips; they are made of compressed parts (like particle board) that come from those who were not chosen when the real potato chips were choosing teams