I'd been in Japan for 2 days now. I had more-or-less adjusted to my surroundings, although I was still stunned that I had actually made it to Japan. For 2 days, armed with my vocabulary of 10 words that allowed me to start conversations, but desperately unable to continue or finish them, I had awkwardly been exploring the area near my tiny hotel and it's surroundings. I was staying in an area far from any big city, so there were no McDonalds, Starbucks or familiar trappings of Western Civilisation - it was me, and the locals.
Full immersion in remote Tokyo was just fine with me. I came to Japan to experience Japan, I had no desire at all to hang out at Burger King. However, I did need to find a job. This meant submitting my resume to employers around Tokyo. This also meant I needed to be contactable. I realised I had to get a mobile phone. My head was tingling at the challenge of going to a big city and get a mobile phone.
I woke up early on the third day filled with determination and with butterflies in my stomach. My clock read 8:18am. The crickets chirped continuously outside my window. The hot, muggy Tokyo summer oozed in through the window. I stood on my bed and managed to get dressed - no small feat considering my hotel room was only slightly larger than the bed itself. I locked and carefully checked the door, and spun around. I held back a cry of joy. This is the most incredible moment of traveling. Standing outside your hotel room with $200, your hotel key in your pocket, and unlimited possibilities and adventures just waiting to be discovered.
I waved to Gen, the friendly old guy who ran the hotel, he smiled back. I walked out the door, and then paused. I turned around and walked back inside.
"Hey Gen, which way's the station?" I asked.
Gen held up an arm, and pointed. "Go under the bridge. Then over a bridge. Then turn right."
"Thanks Gen!" I walked about 50 meters, and became lost. I exercised my terrible Japanese, and harassed various pedestrians.
"Sumimasen, eki ha doko desu ka?" (Excuse me, where is the station?)
Finally I arrived at the station. I walked up to the ticket gate, and asked the train guy for advice.
"Sumimasen... um.... I'm looking for a big city, pretty close to here. Where should I go?" I asked him.
"Ettooo..... Wheshoudaigo?" He repeated with a confused look on his face.
I realised I had been speaking too quickly. I slowed right down.
"Big city. Close to here. BIGGGGGGG CITY!" I gestured by opening up my arms. "Close to here." I pointed to the ground.
He looked at me with dim understanding. "We know?"
"What? You know?" I repeated, confused.
"We know. Big City." He said in slow heavily accented English.
"Great, so can you tell me, "big city", please?" I asked politely.
"We know." He looked at me again.
"I don't understand."
He gave me a look filled with patience. He brought out a map from under his desk, and pointed to a city. It said "Ueno."
"Ohhh Ueno! I get it. Ok thank you. Which platform?"
"Platform Number 1." He said.
I thanked him, and went up to platform 1. I got onto the train, and cruised into Ueno.
Ueno is an old industrial city, filled with old buildings, old shops and odd smells. Not the classiest area of Tokyo, but an interesting place to spend some time or do some shopping.
I spilled out of the train, and took the first exit. I was surrounded by carts, stalls and old Japanese men selling all manner of fake goods and general crap. I waded through, and finally found a mobile phone shop. Excellent.
I walked inside, and the 3 Japanese people working in the shop saw me, and froze. I caught a glimpse of their faces, and I saw pure terror in their eyes. I spun around, expecting to see Godzilla towering over the mobile phone shop, but there was nothing there. I turned back, and they had composed themselves a little bit. Odd, I thought.
I began browsing around the shop, looking at all the different mobile phones, which were lightyears ahead of any Australian offering. I occasionally looked over at the 3 Japanese who had withdrawn to a corner of the shop. I wondered if someone was going to come over to help me out. I looked down again at the phones on the shelves. One phone in particular caught my eye. I picked it up, and examined it closely. It had a large, clear, colour screen, and it was a flip-open design. I flipped it open a few times. It felt good in my hands. I smiled. This is my phone. This is the phone I will use to get a job. My future employer will call me on this very phone.
Excited, I waved at the 3 Japanese. They looked back at me, with an odd mixture of horror and confusion, as if I had just sprouted a leg from my head and started jumping up and down screaming. Unsure of correct protocol, I waved again, and pointed at my phone. All three Japanese suddenly had begun some kind of discussion. It went for about 15 seconds while I stood there with my shiny new phone. Finally I cleared my throat. I wanted to buy this phone and start looking for work, lets get this show on the road.
One Japanese detached from the group, and walked over to me. He was a young guy, maybe 22 years old. He was thin and pretty tall, and he exuded awkwardness and worry.
I tried to re-assure him. "Maybe they thought I was holding up the shop?" I thought, which brought a smile to my face.
"It's ok! I just want to buy this phone." I smiled as re-assuringly as I could manage.
"Buy?" He repeated.
"Yes. I like this phone a lot. This phone, please." I said still smiling, as I offered him the phone for his confirmation.
He cautiously took the phone, and then looked at me. I was aware the other 2 Japanese were silent and focused on our interaction as well.
"Umm..... Why do you needo mobairu phone?" He asked, finally.
"Um, sorry? Why do I need a mobile phone? Are you kidding? I don't get it?" I laughed as good-naturedly as possible.
"Hmm.. I don't think you needo mobairu phone." He said with authority.
"What? Of course, I need this mobile phone." I said with some conviction. What the hell was this?
"No... what would you use mobairu phone?" He said in halting English.
"What do you mean? What would I use it for?? For calling. For receiving calls. Look mate, this is capitalism. You have phone. I have money. Now we swap. Here is my money." I withdrew $100 from my wallet, and showed him. He stepped back as though recoiling from my money.
"I don't think you need mobairu phone. You musto pay money ebery month. Expensive," He added, as though these were convincing arguments.
"Listen," I said, starting to get a bit frustrated. "I need this mobile phone. Here is my money. What do I need to sign? What do I need to do?"
"Sorry... I think it's difficult." He said, looking genuinely sorry.
"Whats difficult? This is simple. Phone. Money. DONE!" I said, emphasising the word "done".
"Very sorry. It's very difficult." He repeated.
I realised I wasn't getting anywhere. This was ridiculous.
"Are you going to sell me the phone, or not?" I made one final attempt to claim my favourite phone.
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled nervously. "I am very sorry." He repeated.
Flushed red with frustration, I turned on my heel, and walked out of the shop. I picked a direction and began walking to try to find a more accommodating mobile phone shop.
I would later realise that the paperwork and requirements for a foreigner to get on a mobile phone contract is much greater and more complicated than a regular Japanese person. They would need to have explained all of it in English, which would have been very difficult for them. So, these Japanese had a problem. One English speaking foreigner in their shop who was focused on buying a mobile. They had to get rid of me as quickly and as nicely as possible, so they had a meeting, found the reluctant hero who spoke the most English, and sent him over to discourage me from purchasing a phone. A few minutes later I left the shop in frustration, after realising they weren't going to sell me the phone.
I would later find out that Japanese people solve almost all of their problems through this style of non-confrontation. Thus, a complicated problem was avoided in the most elegant and confrontation-free manner - the Japanese way.
-------
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I like to think I'm a pretty upstanding citizen for the most part. I do my part to contribute to society, and look out for my fellow man (be they Japanese or foreign). However if you live in Japan long enough, you're eventually going to run into the police. It's a fact of living here.
Put simply, I don't have the highest opinion of Japanese police. Almost every policeman I've ever met or seen is lazy, stupid, arrogant and high on power. The most useful function I've ever seen them serve is giving directions to Tokyo denizens who have momentarily lost their way. One of the worst functions I've seen them performing is harassing random people and cars, stopping them and demanding to see personal identification or prove their vehicle/bicycle is theirs.
Don't get me wrong. I'm from Australia, and I have a huge amount of respect for the men and women who put themselves in the line of fire to protect everyone else. Every experience I've had with Australian police has either been positive, or at the least, professional. Case in point, one of my best friends is a firefighter in Australia, and I have a huge amount of respect for him.
Compare this attitude to Japanese Police - they do as little as possible, are often overweight, harass people for stupid petty crimes or for no reason other than a brief power "high", and are useless in a real emergency. I have watched them stand by idly, unwilling to get involved in a serious conflict between aYakuza and a taxi driver. Many of my friends have been stopped and demanded to show their passport to prove they're not an illegal alien. I have watched them wait until a person has walked away from their parked before before running over and waving over a tow-truck to remove the car - which their unwitting owners can have returned to them at a costly fee.
They will even try to entrap you - a friend had told me about an incident where a sleek Skyline car pulled up next to her at the lights. She looked over, and made eye contact. The Skyline revved it's engines. This girl, being something of a crazy petrol head(rare for a Japanese..!) revved her engine back. They 'revved off', for about 30 seconds until the light turned green, and she slammed into first, spun the wheels, and took off. She hadn't gone 100 meters when the Skyline driver had pulled out a siren and a light, affixed it to the roof, and called out "PULL OVER NOW" on a loudspeaker. Bastards. Just, bastards.
For these reasons and many more, I try to avoid the police. Unfortunately, my strategy failed one fateful day two years ago.
I was driving my scooter, and my girlfriend was on the back. We were going through a Shoutengai, a crowded shopping street. I am a very safe driver, and I was concentrating on avoiding people. I made a right turn, and slowly accelerated with a controlled twist of my wrist. I was going very slowly, about 20 km an hour. I drove slowly past a "Koban", which is like a Japanese Police box. About 5 seconds later, I heard :
"OOOOIII TOMARINSASAIIII!" (Hey!! Stop!!)
I check my mirrors and see a fat Japanese Policeman chasing after me, folds of face fat rolling angrily as he awkwardly chases my slow scooter. I stop, and he quickly catches up. I turn, and look at him. He's winding up for some kind of statement, and then he sees my white face. He pauses, momentarily confused.
"Hello!" I say, brightly in English, capitalising on catching him off guard.
"STOPPU!" He says.
"I'm stopped already," I reply.
"Come off!" He says loudly.
"Come off?" I question innocently.
My mind flashes back to many of my friends and their experiences with Japanese cops and motorbikes. "NEVER SPEAK JAPANESE! It's a pain in the ass for them to fill out all the paperwork to book someone on an international license. Just be friendly, and happy, and likable, and act like you don't speak Japanese. If you make it hard for them, but look like you're trying to be co-operative, they'll let you go" They all told me.
"Come off!!!" He says, louder, pointing at the ground.
"Sure!" I say with a smile. My girlfriend hops off, and I dismount, and put the scooter on the stand.
"SHOW TO ME LICENSE." He says, loudly and gruffly.
"Sure, no problem!" I say with a big smile. I open the seat of my scooter, and start flipping through the documents. "Can I ask why I was stopped?" I said.
"LICENSE." Came the reply.
I frowned slightly, and continued fishing around. First I gave him my Australian license. He looks at it, and squints his eyes.
"Auusss..treea?" He awkwardly reads.
"Australia!" I say proudly.
He looks at me with disgust. "INTERNATIONAL LICENSE!" He says.
"Sure," I say jovially, as I turn back to find my international license. I look through all the documents, and it's not there. Odd. I keep looking. I check my pockets, the front storage area, between the pages of the magazines in the scooter seat. After 3 minutes of frantic fumbling, I suddenly realise I left it at home. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.
"Um," I began.
His face scrunched into a ball, his beady eyes shrinking into his skull, as his frown protruded awkwardly from his face. Tough crowd, I thought.
"COME HERE." He waved me over to the koban. Dammit. I wheeled my scooter around, and walked alongside him.
"PARKING HERE." He gestured to the side of the koban. I obediently followed his command, and parked my scooter.
"COME IN. SIT." he pointed at an uncomfortable looking foldout chair.
I slowly sat, and my girlfriend sat down next to me.
"You. You're Japanese right?" The fat policeman addressed my girlfriend.
"I... um.... not.. speaking Japanese too good... born in America....!" my girlfriend replied in pidgin Japanese. Of course, she was a native Japanese speaker. Good girl.
The fat policeman scowled.
"I'm sorry," I say with a genial smile on my face. "I must have done something wrong. Can you show me what it is? I'm so sorry to cause you trouble," you stupid fat arrogantasshat , why don't you do something useful with your time, like stop crime, or give someone directions, you piece of shit, "I wouldn't want to cause you any more problems."
"YOU SPEAK JAPANESE?" He yelled.
"I.... doing... to study.. Japanese... very hard... now!" I responded with a broad grin and mock pride, in deliberately pidgin Japanese.
"Come here." He said in Japanese, and walked outside. I motioned for my girlfriend to stay seated.
"See this over here? This is a one way street. You turned into a one way street. See the sign there? Can you see it?" He punctuated his angry Japanese by pointing at a one-way sign obscured by a street lamp.
"Gomennasai, wakarimasen!" (I'm sorry, I don't understand).
He threw up his arms, and walked back to the Koban, expecting me to follow. I momentarily considered leaving my girlfriend and making a run for it, but I realised they could track me down using the scooter numberplate, and my girlfriends wrath would be worse than the police. Ireluctantly trudged back to the Koban.
By this time, word had gotten around that the fat policeman had "caught" a gaijin. 3 other policeman were mulling around, with bemused grins on their faces, engaging in pleasant chat. I automatically frowned in irritation, but quickly became aware of my facial expression, and banished any sign of a negative or unpleasant reaction from my face. I retook my seat.
"WE CAN NO SEE LICENSE." Specks of spittle showered out from his face as he awkwardly spoke English. "WE MUST SEE YOU BIKE LICENSE, OR WE NO LET YOU RIDE."
"Sure.... my license is at home. You can come with me." I offered, as friendly as I could.
"NO! YOU DO NOT HAVE BIKE LICENSE!" he shouted.
"Well, I do, but it's at home," I continued lamely.
"NO! I RIDE YOUR SCOOTER! You ride in patrol car."
"Hang on a second," I said, pushing my luck. "Can I see YOUR bike license?"
I battled to keep my grin away from my face as I saw that I caught him out.
"License? fuck." He said under his breath. He again scowled, and called out to the crowd of police. "Hey, who has a bike license?"
"I do," A random cop stepped forward.
"Come on then. Pile him into the police car." The fat policemen said to the other police.
I was promptly led outside, and seated in a policecar. It's a very weird feeling to sit in a police car. It was a busy street, and people were walking either side of the police car. They looked in, to see agaijin sitting on the backseat. I saw them shaking their heads in shock, and whispering to each other "I wonder what he did?". I turned red in embarrassment.
After a few moments, I noticed in my peripheral vision that a young boy had come up to the window, and was staring directly at me, with his mouth wide open. I gave him 5 seconds to go away, and when he didn't, I suddenly turned and "pounced" on him from the other side of the glass, with my arms up either side of my face making claws. He jumped in shock and ran away. I giggled to myself, and then stopped abruptly when a policeman opened the door and sat down. I gave them directions to my house, and we were off.
About 15 minutes later, we arrive at my house. A patrolcar in the neighborhood is BIG news, and all of the old women who lived around the area came out of their abodes in a desperate gambit for the next few days of gossip material. When they saw me sitting in the back, a familiar neighborhood face, they erupted in talk.
"Look! It's that gaijin!"
"I always knew he was trouble. He probably killed someone."
"No! Surely not. He said hello to me once."
"I never trusted him. Lucky for me."
Their mindless babble continued, as my frustration and embarrassment mounted. This is your fault you know, a voice in my head reasoned. Shut up, another voice reasoned back.
I was told to go and get my international license. Then, to my surprise, they asked if they could come with me.
"Can I say no?" I asked, guardedly.
"You don't have to say yes." They said.
"Alright, then, no." I replied.
They looked almost crestfallen, as if they were hoping for a chance to see an exotic gaijin habitat filled with trees, plants and rare animals.
They drove me back to the police station. My girlfriend was remarkably cool about the whole thing, whispering to me what was happening and giving me some clues and head-ups since I didn't understand all the complicated rapid-fire Japanese.
We finally arrive at the station, and I'm led deep into the bowels (and I mean BOWELS) of the police station. They make me wait for an hour. I do my absolute best to continue being jovial, fun and friendly with the surrounding officers.
Finally, they place a handwritten piece of paper in front of me.
"SIGN." They ordered.
I frowned at the paper in front of me. I recognised my name written down the bottom, with a line for my signature. The kanji was difficult and written in messy longhand. I didn't understand any of it.
"Um, can I have a moment to read it please?" I asked, warmly.
They grunted, and left me with my girlfriend.
"What does it say?" I asked her frantically.
She scanned the paper. "Hm... it just says 'I made a big, stupid mistake when I turned the wrong way. It was very stupid, I caused lots of problems for everyone, and I promise I will never, ever do this again. I have no excuse, I am embarrassed and feel very stupid." She translated for me.
I choked on a laugh. "Is it safe to sign? I'm not committing myself to jail?" I asked, earnestly.
"It's fine, you can sign." she said with confidence.
I signed the document, and I was released about 30 minutes later. They allowed me to ride my scooter home after the incident. The whole thing took about 6 hours from start to finish - a very shitty way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
I'll re-iterate - if you live in Japan, or if you visit Japan, do WHATEVER you can to avoid the police. Many of them will make your life difficult on purpose. In the best case scenario, they'll take a lot of your time, and really piss you off.
If you have the misfortune to be caught, be apologetic, friendly, and as stable and solid in your personality as possible. They smell weakness like a dog smells steak, and they will mericileslly attack you if they find you're a pushover.
In addition, apologising in Japan is a way to show that you're aware that you disturbed the 'social order', and you're simply regretful of the problems you caused everyone; it's not an admission of guilt like in America. It's best to apologise frequently, strongly, unabashedly and keep as friendly a demeanor as possible.
I hope you never end up at the mercy of one of these Japanese police officers, but if you do, follow these guidelines, and you should make it through. Best of luck, and leave some comments if you have had any experiences with the Japanese police.
Recently, I made a post called "The worst language mistake in history". This was a really great post for a few reasons. One, it was very highly ranked on www.reddit.com, two, it brought YourJapan
lots of new visitors and a couple of new contributors, and three, a
whole bunch of people wrote in, or left comments sharing their
embarrassing language mistake stories. Here is a collection of the
funniest stories for you. I hope you enjoy them. If you have any more,
please post them in comments.
---
Back in the seventies,
Mike Walsh on his TV show broadcast around Australia said to a young
Frenchwoman the only French he knew which was from a song popular at
the time, "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?" The woman looked
quite startled as he had just asked her if she wanted to sleep with him
that night.
Posted by Mike Lewis 09 Jan 2007, 15:37
---
There
is another funny Japanese mistake that is easy to make. In Japan it is
common for rain to begin in the evening, a phenomenon known as
"yuu-dachi" (yuu = evening, dachi = stand up or start).
From
this one might well think you could replace the Japanese word for
evening "yuu" with the word for morning "asa" to describe a scenario
where rain begins in the morning.
So one time I was on my way to
my junior high school job in Saitama Prefecture and it suddenly started
raining heavily. I had to go back and get my rain gear or I'd be soaked
by the time I got there, but this unfortunately made me a few minutes
late.
Now in Japan it is customary when entering the office,
or in this case the teacher's room, to say, "Osoku natte sumimasen"
("Sorry for being late") upon entering, loud enough for everyone to
hear, and then briefly explain the reason.
So I rush into the
teacher's room, while stripping off my rain gear. All eye are on me as
I bellow, "Osoku natte sumimasen!" and see everyone really appreciate
that I knew the correct Japanese for that situation. Their encouraging
looks embolden me, so I go ahead and explain the reason: "Ookii
asa-dachi ga arimashita node..." but I can't finish the sentence
because first some students who were about, and then all the staff,
suddenly burst into uproarious laughter. I can't figure out why they're
laughing, so I laugh with them and go sit down at my desk.
Later
as I'm on my way to class some students see me in the hall and say,
"Sensei! Biiiiig penis!! ...Do you asa-dachi???" And I start to get the
frist inkling I said something really embarrassing. I soon found out
what "Ookii asa-dachi ga arimashita node" means. It means, "I'm late
because I had giant morning wood"!
The students, especially,
never let me live that down, and I had to fend off kids trying to grab
my cock for the rest of the year.
Posted by Amanojack(Get Girls) 09 Jan 2007, 16:14
---
At
a party in my small apartment, my friends over for dinner commented on
how quiet the place was. The lady in the apartment above had
unfortunatly suffered a brain hemmorrhage some time back and the
apartment was empty. Not knowing the medical terminology in Japanese, I
tried to explain her condition by explaining that the blood vessel in
her head had expanded putting pressure on her brain. Their eyes widened
considerably with looks of incredulity as I explained. Blood = ketsu;
Pipe = kan; Blood vessel = Blood Pipe = Kekkan; the word I used
translates as roughly "Ass Pipe" (ketsukan); They were visibly relieved
to finally understand the situation...
Posted by Captain Bogus 09 Jan 2007, 19:37
---
First
time I set a foot in Germany, I was invited to a restaurant with many
people. I was sitting next to a young german girl who spoke excellent
english. At some point she asked kindly: "do you speak german?". I
wanted to say: "Not well, but I will try with you". Only thing is: I
did not know the word for "try". Being bold and all, I used an old
trick to create vocabulary when you don't have it: germanize the
english word. So "try" became "treiben", and I promptly told her:
"Nein, aber mit Dir werde ich treiben".
There was a pause in all
conversations at that point, and any german-speaker around erupted with
laughter immediately afterwards. I blushed beyond anything you can
possibly imagine but nobody would translate what I just said.
It
took me years to find out, because every time I told the story to
someone they would start laughing uncontrollably and refuse to
translate. Until I found a dear soul who told me "treiben" is the most
vulgar way of saying you want to have sex. Which basically translates
my efforts to: "Not well, but I will do you". Not the nicest thing to
say (in public) to a girl you first met 15 minutes ago.
Posted by Nicolas 09 Jan 2007, 19:45
A
friend of mine has lived in Japan for several years. First time his
mother comes around, he introduces her to his Japanese friends: "dear
friends, this is my mother Diana", and sees them trying to get a grip
on themselves to avoid laughing in her face. Apparently, "Dai-Ana"
means "large orifice" in japanese. News about Lady Diana must have been
fun to read!
Story by Nicolas
---
I went to
quebec and asked for a "large poutine",. However , im do not speak
french very well so I was to this overly large women at the restaurant,
"grand pootin". She gave me a blank stare and did not take my order.
According to my french teacher that is "Big lesbian"
Story by Hodgie
-----
An
aquaintance was asked what he wanted for lunch while in germany. What
he tried to order was a small bucket of fried chicken [huhn], but
actually ordered a bucket of fried puppies! [hunchen]
Story by Osmanthus