I now know how the lone wildebeest feels during the Serengeti-Masaii Mara migration. For I was in the Shinjuku subway station at rush hour. Think of a group the size of the population of Chicago moving all together in a small space at the same time. No option to slow down–being trampled is the likely result. What about peeling off on your own–sure and be picked off by lions, That’s what it’s like, A huge herd of nearly 4,000,000 people all going to gether to filter into the various subway lines and I, small, insignificant, and lost, am with them, Carried along on the wave which I hope will be leading to the subway destination to which I am heading. No way to turn back. No way to detour, I am going where they are going and there is no alternative, Whew!! Lucky for me the herd was going my way, Made it.
Actually I was feeling pretty cocky. The Tokyo subway system is set up like most of the others in the world–excluding New York which runs on an Uptown or Downtown option and you better know where that is relative to your current location–which is determining which side of the track you need to be on by the listed end point of the line you are taking. If the listed end point is in the direction you’re going then you’re going great.
I made it there after mastering the ticket purchase in the machines. So proud,
Will give you a run down tomorrow of my destination and my purchase. For now I want to marvel at order and precision and calm.
The whole herd moves without trampling anyone because there are rules and there are gentle reminders. Above our heads a soft voice is reminding us, in English, to be considerate. But not that adjective alone, she adds behaviors–try not to bump into anyone, keep your luggage close to your body, put your cellphone down. Gentle words. I was actually wondering if she were saying the same things in English or if she were saying ” Look I’m going to remind the damn foreigners, in English, to mind their manners, being Japanese dear Listeners, you need no reminding. Here I go” and then she launches into her reminders.
Anyway we are instructed, As everyone gets to their platforms they wait in line out of the way of the people coming off the cars. No messy stand around whereever you want and block the doors for the departing passengers kind of behavior here. No sirree.
There are a lot of smokers on the streets but they don’t toss their butts. I don’t know what they do with the burning butts maybe wrap them up to smolder in their pockets as a punishment for their weakness to still be smoking. And where are all of the black disgarded gum marks that are prevalent on the sidewalks of all cities in the USA? What happens to the gum? Is it wrapped up and kept in pockets too? Those pockets are getting pretty full.
So patient. So orderly. So clean. Next to the toilet paper you get to see this sign in the hotel bathroom.
I know you are asking yourself whatever could this be? Well it is a bum shower. After you do your poop it directs a lovely warm jet of water right at your little poopy place and it gets all clean. And, as you see, you can also raise the temperature of the toilet seat if it isnt to your liking.
Not comfy enough?
Here’s some clean jammies for you. All clean and pressed cotton.
Cold tootsies?
You didn’t think you were going to have to carry slippers from home did you? Oh no no no.
Even though I was transported by the herd this morning I marvelled at how well it just worked. I think a lot of it is that all desks are manned. All intersections where there might be a challenge for the customer have people there to help. How many times have I come to customs in the USA and looked at a two hour wait while half of the desks were empty. Even the immigration and customs process is streamined here with multiple agents on duty for screening for illness –MERS, SARS–and also for photos, fingerprints, and questions. We were through all of that in fewer than 20 minutes.
This is tax dollars at work. I would be more than willing to pay for customer care and infrastructure that works,
So I revelled in my incredible competence. On my return trip I approached the tickets machines like the metro veteran I already was. I had attained MASTER status in just one round, My chest swelled with pride. With my ticket in hand I approached the entrance and proudly put my ticket into the machine waiting for it to magically open the gates and give me entrance. I smiled at the minions around me. Instead of entrance I was greeted by a flashing red light and a scampering guard who inspected my ticket. Look, Look I said, I am a Metro Master (I fear the aliteration was lost on him, being Japanese and all). Nice ticket he said but you bought it at the JRRailroad machines and it isnt good on the Metro lines. My ego deflated and I spun around the room like a spent balloon. Anyway I was a master at getting a ticket. Just the WRONG ticket. So, so I’m still a master.
Tomorrow I take the bullet train to Okayama and then a ferry to Naoshima. I will tell you of my great purchase as well. Stay tuned.
