DO THE JAPANESE FINALLY LOSE IT WHEN THEY GET HOME?

(Osaka, Japan)

Jovial Japanese

            No one can be kind and pleasant all the time, right? Historically, whether in classic literature or plain old TV, stories have depicted perfect people – polite, courteous, deferential. But this is always a façade, and at some point, the folks just snap. Remember Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery”? Everyone is kind to each other until that one time of the year when they hold a drawing to decide whom among them they will stone to death. In an episode of the original “Star Trek” series entitled, “Return of the Archons,” all the people are peaceful and polite except at one time each day known as “Festival” when they become violent and sexually aggressive. In a book read today by schoolchildren and just turned into a movie starring the incomparable Meryl Streep (to be released this August) called “The Giver,” there is no strife or conflict in the world, but that is only because memories of the violent past reside in a single person’s brain. Once they are released to others, the world will face chaos.

            With that said, there do not appear to be any lethal lotteries, daily festivals or repressed memories among the people of Osaka. Their dispositions seem genuine and unaffected. And they are universally nice and polite, whether giving directions, responding to inquiries or refusing you entry. One of the event directors, Bill Chalmers told us to be careful asking people here any “yes” or “no” questions because the folks are literally incapable of saying “no,” even when that is the answer you need to hear. They will find a way to avoid “no,” even if it means giving incomplete responses. It is not in their nature to convey bad news or offer information they do not perceive that the listener wants to hear. They aim to please, not to disturb. We found that to be true even when asking for directions. Travis, April, Casey and I took a bullet train from Osaka to Hiroshima yesterday. We started at the subway station right across the street from our hotel. We purchased tickets for two subway stops and the bullet train departing at the last stop. We initially received indecipherable directions as we bought our tickets. When we asked people if we were headed in the right direction, they told us we were. Yet, we knew within minutes of beginning the subway ride that we were way off. To meet our schedule, we wound up getting off the subway and taking a cab to the subway station that served as the launch point for the high speed train.

Terrific Transportation

           

            As Bill asked me last night (possibly rhetorically), after hearing about our trek, “Why do you think there are no high speed trains in America?” “Bullet trains” here reach speeds of well over 300 miles per hour. What would have been over a four-hour car ride from Osaka to Hiroshima took just over an hour. Why don’t we have these trains, indeed? Undoubtedly, some major metropolitan areas in America are separated by other townships and could not find room for the tracks. But that is certainly not the case everywhere. Consider Texas, where we live. There should be ample room for a high speed train to travel somewhere not too far from the I-35 corridor and connect Dallas, Waco, Austin, San Marcos and San Antonio (and possibly towns in between). The reduction in traffic on the interstate and, frankly, throughout Austin, would be substantial. And what about such trains connecting Houston and Dallas or Houston and San Antonio? The trains here charge $100 minimum a seat for an hour-plus ride; nearly $300 for a first class seat. I suspect huge numbers of people would pay similar amounts to reduce a three or four hour Texas trip to a single hour. Given that folks would reach their destinations faster than they would by plane when times for check-in and travel to and from airports are considered, the demand would be overwhelming. The trains would likely be cost-beneficial even in the short term. I wonder what corporate monopoly is threatened by high speed trains and has thus prevented their consideration.

Horrifying Hiroshima

            The awe-inspiring train ride was followed with a far grimmer and more somber experience: visiting the Atomic Bomb Dome and the Peace Memorial in Hiroshima. Few events in the history of humankind are as shocking and controversial as the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. I’ve heard the arguments for and against these acts and find the former unpersuasive. In my humble opinion, one would have to embrace utilitarianism as an absolute truth to find justification for using atomic or nuclear weapons. I know the claim. It ended the war sooner and possibly fewer people ultimately died. Ignoring for a moment that the people who were targeted and killed in the attack were largely civilians, this “the ends justify the means” argument is precisely what religious dictatorships use to justify chopping off the fingers or hands of shoplifters and stoning to death “immodest” women to deter crime and promiscuity. It is the argument that has been used to eviscerate human rights by dictators claiming that dissension threatens the common good. It is the argument used to justify treating humans as guinea pigs for dangerous research. “The ends justify the means” is a dangerous argument, indeed.

            Now, off the soapbox. Interestingly, the narratives that accompany each exhibit in the peace museum are not anti-American. Make no mistake: they convey the harsh realities of the carnage caused by the atomic bombs dropped in World War II and the inevitable devastation we face if nuclear weapons are used in the future. But they do not lash out at America for her decision to drop the bomb. If anything, they portray Japan’s instigation of hostilities as the real culprit. I don’t know if this is because Japan of today views the empire of yesteryear as a bleak and unfortunate part of its past, or if there was some American influence on the creation of the museum. But in the end, the objectivity portrayed contrasts sharply with, say, the portrayal of the Vietnam conflict by the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City (see last year’s blog, below). That is not to say I don’t agree with key points made in the Vietnam museum’s exhibits, but the characterization of the two sides of the conflict is anything but objective.

            Perhaps those creating the narrative in Hiroshima recognized that the museum’s exhibits would tell the story far better than words could. One need only glance at the photographs of the old and the young with skin burning off their bones from radiation, the tattered pieces of clothing worn by people just enjoying an ordinary day before the bomb hit, the walls from several miles away from the blast site that were riddled with shards of glass, to recognize the insanity of the act. Over 70,000 killed immediately and about as many injured. Even more perished in the aftermath.

            It was refreshing to see that the city has bounced back and is now more vibrant than ever. Let us hope no city will ever again experience what the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki once did. The museum undoubtedly captures but a fraction of the suffering.

Awesome Osaka

            The city is beautiful. It is huge. Tall buildings, including countless skyscrapers extend in multiple directions beyond the human eye. Businesses flourish both on the streets and in alleys. In fact, there seems to be more neon glowing in the alleys than in the streets. There is something for every member of the family here. Casey and I spent about an hour in an aquarium, of all places. The Kaiyukan Aquarium is the best I’ve ever seen, with tank after tank of fish and aquatic mammals from all over the world. It was great fun seeing a man in diving gear cleaning the inside of a giant tank while hammerhead sharks and even a whale shark swam by.

            This is a modern city in every respect. Let’s get to the important stuff. In many establishments (including our hotel), bathrooms feature Buck Rogers toilets. Heaters and even bidets are not uncommon. As you approach the toilet in our hotel room, for instance, the lid opens automatically and you sit down to a toasty reception. There is a remote control above the toilet paper rings for the bidet. I found myself using a bidet for the first time in a couple decades. There appeared to be buttons to change the location of the stream and there were definitely buttons that changed its intensity. Despite the buttons being labeled in Japanese only, even I could figure out what the up and down arrows and plus and minus signs meant. Unfortunately, no button was labeled “Off.” For a while, I just sat there, worried that, if I rose, water would shoot all over the bathroom. Had I not found the off switch when I did, the bidet stream might just have become a high colonic.

Regretful Reservation

            All of these accolades could lead one to conclude I endorse a visit to Osaka without qualification. That would be inaccurate. I have one reservation: the language barrier. While that is an obstacle facing travel to myriad foreign countries, it is especially acute here. Not only do few people speak any English, there has been little institutional attempt to accommodate English speakers. While the highway signs from the airport contain English words, none of the city street signs or subway station signs do. And few of the people who work in service jobs where they undoubtedly encounter numerous tourists speak any English. We tried twice to use the subway system. We failed both times. The fact that subway maps are written only in Japanese, and no one we found who worked in the subway station could translate them, was a major logistical obstacle to movement. Even taxi travel was difficult because we did not find any cab driver who spoke English. The majority of personnel in our hotel – a Marriott property – spoke no English. We found only one restaurant with a menu in English and that was a British pub.

            When we arrived, Bill warned us this would be an issue. He said our biggest challenge on this leg of the trip was maneuvering our way around the city. He was right. I suspect after several repeat visits, the problem diminishes and one learns enough key words and recalls enough landmarks to make transit feasible. But for these first-time visitors, getting around was very difficult.

            If all this sounds like whining, I don’t mean it to be. I’m from Austin, Texas. I acknowledge that if a Japanese tourist came to Austin, he would find few, if any, people who speak Japanese, and certainly no street signs or menus (other than those of Japanese restaurants) written in the language. It would be the ultimate in hypocrisy to suggest we are owed any more than we ourselves give. I am certainly not criticizing the charming people of this city. I am simply pointing out the logistical problems we faced.

            If you are one who can adapt to language barriers and find your way around a mammoth city, you should put this great metropolis on your list of places to visit.

            We just received word that we leave tomorrow for Seoul, South Korea.