Pachipro on the Your-Japan Blog Network

I would like to share this most extraordinary story of one man’s most unbelievable transformation from despising me to accepting me as one of his family.

 

“Papa” is the name I used when addressing the finest, nicest man I have ever met in Japan. He was my father-in-law and we were the closest of friends. However, it did not start out that way.

 

When I first met my wife in 1981, I was about to graduate college and she was a junior at another college. Since we lived about a 15 minute walk from each other we would sometimes visit each others house for coffee or tea and to listen to music or just talk. Her mother was most welcoming to me when I visited her house and did not seem to mind that her only daughter/child was dating a foreigner. In fact she kind of took a fancy to me and my intuition told me that she was quite ok with me. Her father was usually working when I visited and I would always leave the house before he returned around five in the evening as her mother and she did not know how her father would react to their only child dating a foreigner. In fact they figured he would not take it well and they were right.

 

We managed to keep it a secret from Papa for several weeks until one day he happened to arrive home unexpectedly early and saw us walking together up the street while he was driving down it. The next day, I was informed by my girlfriend that her father had forbidden them to ever allow me in the house again and that she was to stop seeing me.

 

My girlfriend, being a twenty year old college student and quite the rebel at the time, refused to allow this to happen and continued seeing me against the wishes of her father. Her mother, on the other hand, was still ok with it and would run interference for us when the need arose like when we were out dating, on a trip, or when I would call. However, I just knew her father had to know we were still seeing each other.

 

This went on for a few months until he just gave in and stopped refusing his daughter from seeing me. However, he still did not want me anywhere near or in his house. When I asked my girlfriend why, she would say that her father did not want to see her get “hurt” by a foreigner who will only leave Japan and that he had heard too many stories where the woman always gets hurt in the long run when dating or marrying a foreigner. Besides, being seven years her senior, he felt I was too old for her. Needless to say we eventually fell in love and made plans on getting married even if her father would never agree to it.

 

Before we even became serious with each other, I informed my girlfriend that I would be leaving Japan in December (some nine months after we met), when my student visa expired to return to the US with my degree and start a career in business. I asked her to come to the US after she graduated the following April and we would get married. She agreed and although her father would be totally against it, she would do it anyway as she said they couldn’t stop her.

 

I returned home to my parents’ house outside of New York City in December 1981 and proceeded looking for a job right after the holidays. Things did not work out in the USA for me as I had hoped and planned. A full blown recession was underway, interest rates were hovering at around 18% and, although I was told I had great qualifications, no one was hiring at the moment and I was really bummed out. I finally found a job at the Bank of Tokyo on Wall Street that paid a measly $14,000/yr. After taxes I cleared about $200/week! Hell, that wasn’t even enough to rent a small apartment and have something left over. Besides, I made more money in Japan as a part-time teacher!

 

My fiancée arrived in May, 1982. She told me that her parents took her to the airport and bid their only child a tearful farewell. Even today I cannot believe that her father allowed her to go, or, as often happens, disown her or something like that.

 

After a couple of months she found employment with a Japanese restaurant in the city and try as we may we still couldn’t scrape up enough money to afford our own decent place, buy some furniture, pay our rent and still have something left over to save. Besides, we both disliked living in New York and longed for Japan again. We decided that this wasn’t going to work out and, after much discussion and debate we settled on not getting married and on returning to Japan where we planned to eventually open up our own English school. Besides, we both knew we could make far more money in Japan than we were making in New York at the moment.

 

She departed in December and I followed some four months later after I applied to a language school, secured sponsorship through a friend and finally got my Cultural Visa for “Japanese Language Study”. (What’s funny here is that I had to sign a statement at the embassy promising that I would NOT be going there to teach English!) Besides, I didn’t need the school anyway as I was already quite fluent in Japanese having lived there for 9 years, but it was the fastest and easiest way for me get back to Japan and live legally.

 

After only 16 months in the US and my dreams shattered, I returned to Japan where I quickly found an apartment in my old neighborhood near my fiancée and an English teaching job paying much more than I was making in New York. To follow through with my visa though, I attended the language school for about two years. Being back in Japan again I felt much more comfortable and “at home” as I had quite a few friends there also.

 

We put off our plans on marrying and continued seeing each other despite her father’s continued disapproval and I was still not allowed to visit her house. What a loser he must’ve thought I was as I couldn’t even make it in the US. However, one thing led to another, things fell into place and we had our own English School in a less than two years. The kicker was that I had to be married in order for me to officially register the business in my name and we both knew her father would never approve of us marrying or even agree to it for that matter.

 

My wife came up with the idea that she would secure her koseike shohon (Family Register) and we would get married in a civil ceremony. When I questioned her about the fact that I would be entered on her family register and what would her father think of it, she said not to worry as no one would know unless they asked to see the register. Since she didn’t have any siblings she said it would be no problem and, if her father found out and still disapproved afterwards, so what, it was already done. What guts she had to go against her family like that. This was a rare woman indeed!

 

We got married, opened up our school and her family was never the wiser. She never told them and they never found out! She would stay with me and help run the school on weekdays as she told her parents, and would return to stay with them on weekends. For almost three years we were married and they never discovered it. Things were going well, the school was growing, we were making money and then I really screwed up!

 

One day I awoke to four detectives standing over my bed with a search warrant and I was busted for an illegal substance (0.0125 grams of hashish!) We were both arrested even though my wife was completely innocent and never used the stuff. She spent a week in jail and I spent two weeks. No phone calls were allowed by either of us and her parents became extremely worried and checked with the local police when she didn’t come home and no one answered the phone. They then knew what had happened. Still, they did not know we were officially married. My wife was eventually exonerated and no charges were pressed. As for myself, I was charged, received a suspended sentence, and allowed to stay in the country and continue my business. My name was never in the papers though, and none of the students or their parents ever came to know what happened.

 

When my wife was released and she returned home, her father questioned her about whether she really loved me or not and whether she wanted to stay with a man like me after what I put her through. She told him that she did. To her shock, and mine also when she told me, she said that her father said to her, “If you really love this man after all this then marry him and let’s have a ceremony.” Both of us were really shocked by this and it was then that I was allowed to visit her house some 6 years after first meeting her and being banned!

 

About a week later I returned with my wife to her house, apologized to her father in the traditional Japanese manner by getting on my knees and apologizing to him with my head touching the tatami for the pain I caused his daughter and him and his wife. He said that I shouldn’t worry about it and that it was already done. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. He asked that I stay the night, insisted that I take a bath with his daughter and allowed us to sleep together in the same room! Needless to say I was in shock that day and night. The beer flowed freely and we really got along quite well although I was still a little suspicious. I mean, how can a man change so quickly, and why?

 

The following day I asked him for his daughters hand in marriage. He agreed and said that we were not to worry as he would be paying for everything! All we had to do was plan it. Not one word was ever mentioned then or afterwards about my run-in with the law and the beer and food flowed freely again and a good time was had by all.

 

What a weekend! An apology for getting his only child arrested and then asking for his daughter hand! What a son-in-law I would make!

 

From that day forward, even though he spoke no English, Papa and I became the best of friends. I visited often and we would drink together while watching baseball or sumo. Sometimes we would go out and sing karaoke and we always had a great time. I actually looked forward to the weekends when we would visit and stay.

 

The marriage occurred about six months later and it was really a wonderful affair held at a hotel in Yokohama with about 100 guests. There was the traditional Japanese ceremony with both of us in kimono along with the western one with a white wedding dress for my wife and a sharp tux for me. The best part was when my wife danced with her father and I with her mother. It was truly a day to remember and it was the first time I ever saw Papa cry. He was really happy.

 

Things continued well for us and the business and then the Japanese economy started to swell. Land prices went through the roof and we knew that we would never be able to afford our own place as a five room “mansion” (condo) that cost about US$80,000 just three years previously, was now going for almost three times as much. It got so ridiculous that, after some discussion, we made plans to sell the school and return to the US. At least there we would be able to afford our own place and, since the economy was doing well, we should at least be able to find decent employment this time.

 

It was not easy breaking the news to Papa that I would again be taking his only child away from him, but he understood that it was what we both wanted and agreed to it. Inside his heart though I knew it must have hurt him in some way as not only was his daughter leaving him, but his best friend also.

 

Papa wanted to help with a place in Japan, but we would not hear of it. It was just too expensive. This we wanted to do on our own. We left within a year and we departed the country to a tearful goodbye from her parents with a promise from me that we would visit at least once a year.

 

We settled in Tennessee and through a friend we both knew in Japan, both of us quickly found great employment with the same Japanese company and, within 2 years built our own house.  We were doing quite well and we visited Japan once a year, as promised. I visited more often as I had to take business trips to Japan an additional once or twice a year and I always made it a point to visit with the in-laws for at least a few days. Papa and I always had a blast as usual and my wife told me that her father really looked forward to seeing me and enjoyed my company.

 

We wanted her parents to visit us in the US and they had planned on it when tragedy struck. Papa had come down with lung cancer a year or so before we were married and a lung was removed. He continued living a normal life until it was discovered that he had incurable brain cancer.  An operation removed some of the cancer, but it left him partially paralyzed on his right side and he was informed that it was terminal and that there was nothing more to be done for him.

 

Papa took it well and continued to live life as normally as he could. Even though he was forced to retire because of his condition, his company took great care of him by continuing to pay him. Like his daughter, he was a fighter and continued to have a great outlook on life while still enjoying his smokes and alcohol. As he used to say, “If I’m going to die, I may as well enjoy myself!” Still, like always, we had a great time together during our visits and I so much looked forward to them.

 

During one of our visits, when we were alone, he mentioned that he was not going to be here forever and that when the time came would I look after his wife. I promised him that should that occur he needn’t worry as I would make it my goal to ensure that his wife, as well as his daughter, was well taken care of. And I intended to keep that promise. It was the least I could do for this fine man who made such a transformation and treated me so well.

 

After about 2 years, Papa took a turn for the worse and was admitted to the hospital. My wife took a leave of absence to be with her father and he slowly deteriorated. I got a call from her one night that things were not good and that Papa was asking for me. I made plans to go in two weeks. But, two days before I left, I got a phone call from my wife saying that Papa had passed away. I was so sad. She said that right up till the end Papa was asking for me and was looking forward to my arrival. I really felt bad in that I should’ve left immediately and that I couldn’t be with him. However, it really warmed and touched me at how much he wanted to see me.

 

In the end I felt as if I had lost my own father as he truly treated me like a son and I really felt the love both he and his wife have for me and the way they welcomed me into their family. Me, a gaijin; a foreigner who married his only child and took her away – twice! Me, the person he refused to allow into his home until I caused his daughter to spend time in jail. It’s strange how things in life work out. Just when you think one door is slammed in your face and things seem impossible, life throws you another twist and opens another door.

 

After 21 years of visiting the same home, I truly feel as if Papa’s house is my own and I know he would not want to have it any other way. And when I visit, the first thing I always do, even before unpacking my bags, is to go to the tokonoma, the small alcove where the family shrine is kept with Papa’s picture, get on my knees, light a candle and some incense, ring the bell to let him know I am there, light up one of his favorite cigarettes, clap my hands and tell him that I am “home” and to thank him for welcoming me as one of the family and that he needn’t worry as I will continue looking out for his family and will keep my promise by returning to Japan permanently to make sure his wife is well taken care of and will not be alone in her later years.

 

If Papa knew after the official ceremony that we were previously married for three years, he never let on and neither did his wife to this day. They had to know or someone in their family had to know. That kind of thing you cannot keep secret for long, especially in a small town up north. But Papa never let on and neither has Mama to this day. What fantastic in-laws they have turned out to be and I feel honored to have been blessed with their love and acceptance of me over the years.

 

Papa, you are a great man and words cannot do justice for the way you changed and came to befriend me and accept me into your family, warts and all. I will never forget it and I just hope I have not disappointed you. Kanpai!

May 16, 2007

I stood on the platform of Odakyu Sagamihara station as I had done so many hundreds (thousands?) of times in the past 34 years and never gave a second thought to where I was as it seemed so natural to me. After all, I am home again and it does feel good to be in familiar surroundings.

I heard the familiar tone signaling an approaching train and the familiar female voice informing everyone that the local train was arriving and to stand behind the yellow line. I swear that voice has never changed. I boarded the train and departed at the next stop, Sagami Ono, where I would catch the express train to Shinjuku.

As I boarded the express train I took my all too familiar spot at the opposite door where I could stare out the window as I so much enjoyed doing in the past. This was my favorite spot as these doors would not open until the stop before Shinjuku and I could daydream and observe the sights along the way without having to move. Also, it was my favorite spot during rush hour as I wouldn’t be bothered.

After about 10 minutes it dawned on me that it was exactly 30 years and a little over one month that I had first stood in the same spot on the way to my first day of what would be fours years as a university student in Japan. I remembered that I thought to myself that day, "I will be riding this train four days a week for the next four years!" At the time it seemed like an eternity and the thought wasn’t an entirely pleasant one as the commute was a little over an hour, but I had so much wanted to stay in Japan after serving in the military the previous four years that it was my only option and one that I really didn’t mind and looked forward to with much anticipation.

As I stared out the window I began to contemplate the changes I had witnessed in a generation where I lived and along this train line. And, since I had been back to Japan like clockwork every single year since I left in 1988, I really never gave it much thought before today. The changes were slow and I never really noticed how much things had changed and how much they hadn’t. To me it was like returning home. In a way it truly was as not only did I live there, but my wife, while a college student, moved to the area from Tokyo with her parents who had bought a house not far from where I lived. I have been visiting my wife’s house for almost 20 years now and it really does feel like my own and I am truly treated as one of the family.

Odakyu Sagamihara, where I lived for 12 years (1973-1985), has really undergone many major changes mostly in the construction of high rise apartment buildings and condominiums otherwise known as "mansions". Gone are the one or two story buildings that surrounded the station. What used to be an empty lot that I used to practice baseball in with a few local men is now replaced by six story mansions. Many of the mom and pop shops that used to surround the station are gone and replaced by four story parking facilities or shopping buildings or, again, mansions. Many of the small restaurants, shops, and snacks on the side streets are still there though. The "Dove Store" otherwise known as Ito Yokado is now owned by 7-11 and is called 7i or 7 holdings.

The McDonalds at the station, where I first met my wife 26 years ago, and the Odakyu Ox department store have been torn down for what will be a 20 story mansion complex above the train station complete with shopping and restaurants on the first few floors. Construction began last year and they are half way through it already. If one rents or buys there, one need only take an elevator for shopping or eating and to catch the train to work. While in Japan last year we checked into buying one but they were already sold out!

The Yokohama bank where I had an account and dated a teller for a while is still there.

The roads are still narrow and have not been widened nor have any sidewalks been added. Still it is quaint and familiar. My old apartment is still there and it is one of the oldest in the neighborhood now! It looks that way too as it has not received a face lift since it was built more than 30 years ago and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the mailbox I bought when I first moved into it in 1977 is still there also. The bar across the street where I first met Mr. Suzuki has now been re-renovated as part of a house. The rest of the houses in the neighborhood are still as they were, although many have received face lifts and the older houses have been torn down and replaced by newer ones. A few of the larger houses with much land have been sold and there are now three or four houses where in the past there was one or they have been replaced by parking lots.

The Chujitsuya department store (or what we in the military used to call "The Flower Store" because of it’s symbol of a flower) across from the pachinko parlor where I made my living during my last year of University has been replaced by a 10 story mansion. The mom and pop restaurant where I ate many meals 2 minutes from my apartment has also been re-renovated as part of a house. The neighborhood vegetable store, cleaners and sakaya-san (liquor store) are still there and I always make sure to say hello when I visit. The proprietors are now in their sixties or more, but they are still working as is the mama-san at the karaoke bar/snack "Tsuyuki" that I so often visited on an almost daily basis many years ago. She must be at least 70 now! Alot of the former mom and pop stores like the TV store and such are now gone replaced by huge department stores like Bic Camera, Yodobashi Camera, or Dai Kuma.

I still see my Japanese friends every visit and we are now in our 50’s or 60’s and some are, or set to become, grandparents and some have passed on. Still, it is like nothing ever changed between us. We reminisce about the times we used to go out "girl hunting" (is that phrase still used today?) at discos in Roppongi and smoking weed, and carrying the Omikoshi (shrine) at festivals on weekends and the weekend local baseball games. We remember the motorcycle rides late at night and on the weekends and staying one step ahead of the police and the beginnings of Karaoke on 8 track tapes in snacks when we had to pay 100 yen for each song! I could go on and on, but I guess you get the picture.

As the train made its way towards Shinjuku I also noticed many changes along the way. The majority of the Odakyu line from Sagami Ono to Shinjuku is now four tracks instead of two to accommodate the express trains and the "Romance Car" luxury express and construction is still going on expanding that line. All of the local stations have been expanded accommodate 10 cars instead of four, and mansions abound now at many of the stations. I remember when Shin-Yurigaoka was built and was nothing but empty fields. Today, those fields are now replaced by houses, many houses, and department stores and what have you. Siejo Gakkuen Mae station used to above ground. Today it is underground as is Yamato station going towards/coming from Fujisawa and Enoshima.

The US Army hospital I used to work at Sagami Ono is gone, replaced by stores and a housing complex, and the station itself has been rebuilt into a huge shopping complex with a bus and taxi depot. As a matter of fact, it is quite nice to be able to take the bus from Narita airport to Sagami Ono station now and then a short taxi ride home.

I turned and noticed the people sitting in their seats or standing. Back in the day people would read on the train or listen to mini radios with an earplug for entertainment, or just sleep and nothing has changed much in that department. My first experience into something really technological for the train was when the Sony Walkman first debuted in about 1979. You just weren’t cool if you didn’t have one on the train or when walking. It was a great experience to be able to listen to your own favorite music on a cassette tape anywhere and anytime you desired, inside
your home or outside. Today many people take that experience for granted. As I glance around the train today I see the majority of people looking down at cell phones and texting or reading whatever on their phones. What a change. I felt so out of place not looking at a phone that I actually thought about taking my US cell phone out of my bag and opening it just to look like I belonged! How lame is that? As has always been the case in Japan and elsewhere, people tend to shut themselves off from the rest of the world while on the train by reading, listening to music or just sleeping. No one said a word to anyone. It’s amazing how quite Japanese trains can be.

Trains didn’t start to be air-conditioned until around 1978 and I believe by 1985 they were all air-conditioned. It was sheer torture riding one in rush hour with just an overhead fan. Often it was I who opened a window for air and a breeze as most Japanese didn’t want to be the first to make the move! And the air-conditioner would not be turned on until the first week in June regardless of how hot it was.

Also, back then air conditioning was an unaffordable luxury and I never had one until 1985! The only places that had "air con" were a few department stores and coffee shops and, of course, pachinko parlors. How did I survive the summers and sleep at night? Open windows, mosquito killer incense, and an oscillating fan, that’s how! But I do look back on the sultry summers with a sense of nostalgia!

There is now a recording in English on the trains informing people of the next stop and even the station map above the doors is now digitalized and in both English and Japanese. Man, I sure could’ve used that when I first started living in Japan, but then again I may have not taken the time to memorize the Kanji for all the stations.

I am just amazed that in 30 years overall prices have hardly moved. Coke and juice is still around 100 yen and cans are usually 350ml now, but there are still the smaller cans for sale at the same price. Apartment prices are very reasonable now and a 2DK apartment about a 10 minute walk from the station can still be rented for around 30-50,000 yen/month and a mansion goes for 50-80,000 yen or more. I paid 30,000 yen/month for the 2DK place (with bath!) I rented 30 yrs ago seven minutes from the station! A 3LDK mansion can be bought for anywhere from 19,000,000 yen on up to 40,000,000 yen for a brand new one near, or on, the station! That is very reasonable in my opinion and comparable to any major city in the US. Even a decent house can be bought for around 20,500,000 to 30,000,000 yen these days. The reason why I left Japan in 1988 was because the price of the mansion I wanted to buy went from 8,000,000 yen to 28,000,000 yen in 2 1/2 years! And that was in the boonies of Yokohama! Also, you couldn’t buy a house for under 40,000,000 yen at the peak of the boom. Yes, housing and land prices have really come down since I left.

A medium bottle of beer can still be had for around 5-600 yen in a snack although it is still expensive to buy beer in a store and it is still 5-600 yen for a whisky and water! The price for a loaf of Yamazaki bread is still around 150 yen and food prices have remained relatively stable. Unbelievable! The biggest change I have seen, other than housing, is in the price of whiskey both imported and domestic. I could hardly believe that a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey could now be bought in Japan for less than I’d pay for the same bottle here in Tennessee where it is made! Beer in Japan is still expensive, but at least there is Chu Hai with 7% alcohol content! I could drink that stuff forever as it tastes like soda pop with a hell of a kick! Plus, there are now a variety of cheap beers for about half the price of premium beers.

It is really cheaper to eat in McDonalds in Japan than it is in the US and I remember when the first "Makudonaludo’s" appeared in the mid 70’s! When the one opened at Odakyu Sagamihara station in about 1974 my friend and I ate two Big Macs each that day! Also, for about 1,200 (US$3.60) you could eat all you want for lunch at Shakey’s Pizza back then.

Clothing prices in Japan are now reasonable, especially if you shop at Uni Qlo. There, you could buy clothing for what you would pay in the states or less. Cosmetics and personal hygiene products, for both men and women, are still way over priced as they always were. Prices for fiber-optic, high speed cable is way cheaper than I pay for broadband here in the US! Here I pay $55/month for broadband at about 1mb/sec and forget fiber-optic. That is not due for 3-4 years! Cable TV is another $50 for just basic cable and no premium channels!

Yen is now around 123/US$. When I left permanently in 1988 it was 128! Not much of a change if you ask me.

Don’t be fooled into believing that all of Japan is more expensive than the US or maybe your own industrialized country. In my experience and opinion it is no less expensive to live in my small suburb of Tokyo/Yokohama than living here in the suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee and that includes housing!

One thing I have always noticed for 30 years and the same holds true today is that, if someone sits next to you on a train, male or female, and they are studying the English language, they will more often than not pull out that book or text and read it while seated next to you. Coincidence? I don’t know. Back in the day it was an easy way to make a friend or meet someone of the opposite sex if you said something like, "Are you studying English?" It still amazes me to this day and at my age (52), how many people of both sexes still do it as their way of maybe saying, "I know a little English and would like to meet/talk to you, but I am too shy and not sure if you speak English also." One person even pulled out the NHK book in French. Granted, most of the people that did it this last trip were closer to my age than in the past, but there was one younger female in her late twenties or early thirties who did this that I thought, "If only I were…" Anyway, I digress.

People do seem a little more withdrawn and a little more shut off from society these days, but then again, the Japanese always seemed to be that way, especially the younger generation. I guess the advance in technology today enables them to be more withdrawn. In a way I kind of understand as I spend way too much time on my computer and the internet these days myself and can get lost in a world all to myself complete with video chats with people from not only Japan but all over the world.

TV has not changed in all these years. The programming is still basically the same with the famiry doramas, silly game shows, sports, cartoons, morning shows for housewives, mystery dramas in the evening that always include a murder, and the sexual content on late night TV etc.

As the train made it way towards Shinjuku, had I not been back every year I think I would be shocked at the numerous 20 story or more skyscrapers now dotting the skyline in one of the most earthquake prone countries in the world as well as the numerous, high story mansions now popping up everywhere! I wonder what will happen when the "big one" hits as is inevitable. I guess only time will tell. They sure must’ve made some great strides in quake-proofing buildings.

Yes, Japan has changed very much on the outside these past 30 years, but for all its changes, at least on the inside, culturally, it remains the same and has not really changed that much to me. Unknown neighbors still greet even a foreigner with a slight head nod and an "Ohayo" or "Konnichiwa" and hardly anyone is shocked to hear a foreigner speaking Japanese. There is hardly any finger pointing and giggles from Japanese school kids as in the past when they encounter a foreigner and I don’t believe I have experienced it in many years. I have also noticed that the Japanese, overall, are now not so shocked to see a foreigner or have one walk into their place of business and I have yet to exper
ience being turned away from a place like a bar or snack if I walk in alone. There is much less "panic" than in the past. I guess knowing the language a bit and not being afraid to use it or make mistakes helps, I don’t know.

As I exited the train at Shinjuku I made my way quickly, but silently, like an expert walking through a maze, through the crowds towards the JNR train that would take me to my destination. Damn, it is crowded this afternoon, but I am home and I do so much love it crowds and all.

Some may think that I am trying to relive my past or living in a fantasy world, but I beg to differ as Japan is more home to me and I am more comfortable there than in my own country and I have lived here in Tennessee for 18 1/2 years now. Still, it is only temporary, like being assigned overseas for a company or something, and I yearn for the day in a few short years when I will return "home" permanently. Maybe it will sink in when I am turned down for my first house or mansion, but it’s not like I’ve never experienced it before and it really doesn’t bother me as I know, sooner or later, I will find what I am looking for. Plus, I know Japan is not perfect and has its warts, but doesn’t everywhere?

I understand that the past can never be recaptured, but it is fun to relive some of the most memorable times of my entire life. Maybe it’s because I became an adult in Japan and stayed for so long, I don’t know. Thomas Wolfe wrote a book entitled "You Can’t Go Home Again", showing that one can really never capture one’s past and that people change and the home one remembers exists only in the past. Apparently he has never lived in Japan because, to me, more than 30 years later, Japan has hardly changed and the past and present seem as one, only it is a lot more modern on the outside and relatively unchanged on the inside.

I have Diverticulitis which sometimes becomes inflamed and I have to go to the doctor to receive antibiotics. The pain subsides within 24 hrs and disappears after about three days. My last problem with it occurred about 4 yrs ago.

Well, while I was visiting Japan these past few weeks it became inflamed and within 24 hrs I developed a slight fever and knew I would have to go see a doctor or go to the hospital. I was a little concerned as I had no national health insurance, but it had to be done regardless of the cost.

My wife called a doctor in the neighborhood and an appointment was made for an hour later. It was a Saturday morning and I figured it would probably be crowded. I had not received medical care in Japan since the 80’s when I was living there full time and, not knowing the cost, we took 60,000 yen with us as, in the US, with no health insurance the cost would probably be at least $200 if not more.

We walked the 10 minutes to the small clinic and upon entering, after removing our shoes and using the slippers (pink for females, blue for males) I was amazed that there were only two patients there, an elderly gentleman and a woman with a baby. This was surprising for a Saturday morning as in the US on a Saturday the offices are booked solid and one must wait at least an hour over ones scheduled "appointment".

The nurse behind the counter took my basic information and asked that I take a seat and said the doctor would see me shortly. Unlike the US there were no pages and pages of info to fill out for a first time visit.

Within 10 minutes the doctor called us in and I noticed his diploma on the wall from Tokyo University. I explained my situation to him in Japanese with help from my wife and what kind of penicillin I usually take for the symptoms. He understood what I was talking about, checked his computer for reference and asked that I lie down. Locating the pain on the left side of my abdomen he asked that I take a urine test. I left the cup on the counter in the restroom and as soon as I returned to the room he said that my urine was ok. Now that was fast!

He said that he would give me a 5 day prescription for antibiotics and pain killers and that if the pain did not subside within 24 hrs that I was to return. We went to the counter and we were given the medicine right there! No pharmacy to go to! Our bill was calculated and it was presented to us.

To my astonishment the total bill for the visit, urine test and two prescriptions was 4,610 yen!! Approximately US$38 at the current exchange rate. And that was with no National Health Insurance! My wife and I looked at each other with wide open eyes. I asked her if this was the normal cost and she asked the nurse. Yes it was and they apologized for the cost with my having no health insurance. Unbelievably reasonable in my opinion and there was no need for them to apologize if they knew the cost of such a visit in the US. It was way lower than either of us expected. I felt as if I had won the lottery or something.

I calculated the cost of what this would have cost me in the US WITH insurance. The co-pays for the doctor, urine test, and two prescriptions at a pharmacy would have come out to about $60 and, with no insurance the cost would have been at least $200! This just goes to show how unreasonable medical costs are in the US.

Anyway, within a couple of days I was fine and my visit to Japan was not interrupted at all as I was still able to function thanks to the pain killers and had a wonderful time drinking beer and eating all kinds of food in Shinjuku with my friends two days later. I am very grateful that in Japan you are not ripped off for emergency medical care even if you have no health insurance and are a foreigner.

Therefore, if you are visiting Japan and become ill, don’t fear that it will cost you an arm and a leg if you have to receive care as the costs are very reasonable to one without insurance.

Are the Japanese really an honorable and honest people as most people seem to think or are they just like everybody else? A lot of people seem to think they are. Some say it is because they are of one race and ethnicity. Some say it’s because of the group mentality thinking. Others say it’s because of their deep rooted culture based on codes of the samurai with bushido and the similar codes of the Yakuza. Others say it’s because of their morals and upbringing. And, still, others say it’s because of the dense population and close proximity to each other that one has to think about another’s feelings so as not to disturb their “Wa” (harmony). I don’t know the correct answer, but I do know one thing, and that is, in one experience of mine, I was grateful that at least one person was honest and honorable.

This experience occurred when I was a university student. I also had a part-time job teaching English to businessmen and college students at a small school I worked at during the week and on Saturdays. We were always paid in cash on the 25th of the month. I had adopted the bad habit of carrying around one of those long rectangular wallets that I had received as a gift from a friend of mine. Maybe you’ve seen them. They are thin, sometimes made out of leather or silk, and are long enough to hold Japanese bills without them being folded. A lot of businessmen carry one in the inside breast pocket of their suit jacket as do many Yakuza and Chinpira (young Yakuza in Training)

It was a fashion trend back then to have one prominently sticking out of your back pocket as it kind of made you look cool and fashionable. (And we all know how important it is to be fashionable and “with the times” in Japan.) Why they were carried like that I don’t know because they could easily be lifted from your back pocket and pickpockets are well known in Japan. However, I was told that that was rare.

Anyway, to look like I “belonged” and cool, I started carrying one about two months prior. When I got paid this particular day, I put the twelve 10,000 notes in the wallet, stuffed it in my back pocket and started out for home after my classes ended at 9pm. I got a seat on the train and slept most of the way.

When I got to my train station I proceeded up the stairs with the crowd to the ticket taker. I reached around for my wallet to show my train pass and it was gone! It had everything in there, my train pass, my money, my bank card, important phone numbers, student ID, etc. Luckily it didn’t have my gaijin card in there as back then it was a little booklet that wouldn’t fit in any kind of wallet and I always kept it in the other back pocket.

It’s amazing how many thoughts can go through one’s head in a split second. I instantly panicked thinking how I was going to pay my rent and bills this month. I knew for sure right then and there that I would never see it again and it was gone forever. I figured I was pick-pocketed while walking to the train or getting off. With Shinjuku station being so crowded and with the crowd getting off the train, I could understand how easily someone could have lifted it without my ever knowing it.

I explained my plight to the ticket taker and he pointed me to an office. I went in and explained my predicament to the station master. He asked me for a complete description of the wallet and its contents. He also asked for proof of who I was and luckily I had my gaijin card. I explained that I probably lost it after I got on the Odakyu line at Shinjuku as I had to show my train-pass for entry. He wrote everything down and made a few phone calls to the major express stops along the Odakyu line. From his conversations I knew he wasn’t having any luck. After his last phone call to Shinjuku station he hung up the phone, looked at me apologetically, and said that I might have better luck checking back with him in the morning.

Even though our conversation was conducted in Japanese, he never seemed surprised that I could speak Japanese, nor did he try to speak to me in English. He was professional throughout and treated me, I guess, as he would any Japanese person.

I went down the stairs of the train station and walked home in utter despair. I kept thinking how stupid I was to carry that thing in my pocket like that knowing that it could’ve been so easily lifted. I had no money on me whatsoever save for a couple of 100 yen and other coins and the banks and ATM’s were closed. Being single, I usually ate dinner out as it only cost 4 or 500 yen and I couldn’t even eat that night. I did have some ramen, eggs and bread at home though, so it wouldn’t be a total loss.

When I got home, I was still so despondent that I wasn’t even hungry. I just sat at my kotatsu and stared into space thinking about the 120,000 plus yen that I had just lost. I quickly did some calculating, got out my bank book, and figured that all was not that bad as I still had just enough money in the bank to pay my rent and bills and buy a new train pass. Then I thought about my student ID as I couldn’t buy a student-discount train pass without one; and my bank card. I couldn’t even go to an ATM. It would take a couple of days to get a new student ID and at least a week to get a new bank card.

After about an hour or so I thought that I was not going to let this screw up my life. It’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about it. I chalked it up to a “stupid tax” that one pays going through life’s experiences. Besides, there is still tomorrow. Even if I just got back the wallet with my student ID and train pass I would be happy as the train pass cost me about 7,500 yen for a three month pass and I just bought it the previous month!

I was now feeling a bit hungry and decided that I was going to go out to eat and get drunk. I wandered over to the little snack across the street from my apartment and asked the mama-san if I could pay her tomorrow and explained what had happened to me. Without so much as a second thought she told me not to worry about it and that I could pay tomorrow or whenever I could. I quickly ordered a beer and some food.

After a while my good friend Suzuki-san walked in with his ever present dog, Jiro, on his back. Mama-san explained to him what had happened. He immediately said that he was paying my tab that night and I was not to worry. As I ate and we talked, I thought about what a great country this is and what good friends I had made. Here a foreigner loses his months pay and his Japanese friends step in to help him out. Mr. Suzuki even offered me 10,000 yen to tide me over, but I refused as I told him I would be going to the bank in the morning.

We drank and sang a few songs and then I went home. As I lay in the futon waiting for sleep to befall me, I still couldn’t stop thinking about the lost wallet.

I awoke the next morning, started up the kerosene heater, put my futon away, made some coffee and watched a little TV. After about an hour I got out my bank book and my hanko (official seal with my name on it), put them in my bag, turned off the heater, and ventured on up to the train station and the station masters office in the hopes that someone may have found my wallet and turned it in. But I still highly doubted it.

The station master was a different person, but he had all my information. When I told him who I was he said, “hai, hai,” yes, yes, and went on to explain that my wallet had indeed been found and I could pick it up at Hon-Atsugi station, a short distance away, as that was where it was turned in. I breathed a sigh of relief and asked him if there was any money in it. He said he didn’t know. I was just so glad that at least I might get back the train pass, my student ID card, and my bank card. I wasn’t so much worried about the train pass and my bank card as, unless it was a young person who pick-pocketed me, they wouldn’t be able to use my train pass as it had “STUDENT” stamped in bold kanji on it. Also, they couldn’t use my bank card either as they didn’t know my PIN number.

As I had enough money to buy a ticket to Hon-Atsugi, I didn’t bother wasting any time going to the bank as, if my money was indeed stolen, I would go to the bank at Hon-Atsugi station. I purchased a ticket and a can of hot coffee from one of the vending machines and sat on the bench waiting for my train to arrive.

It was a sunny day. A brisk March wind was blowing and I was warmed by the coffee. It was one of those days when the sun was bright, the air was crisp with just a hint of spring, the sky was picture perfect blue, and you were just glad to be alive. I just hoped I would feel the same after getting my wallet back.

After about five minutes I heard the familiar female voice announcing that the train was arriving and to stay behind the yellow line. I boarded the first car as I usually did and stood behind the engineer as I always enjoyed the view from this perspective.

Five stops later I was at Hon-Atsugi and found my way to the station masters office. I told him who I was and produced my gaijin card as proof. He asked me to identify the contents in detail and I did. He then went around a partition and after a few agonizingly long minutes came back. He had my wallet and a piece of paper in his hand. I was relieved as all hell. He laid my wallet on the counter and explained that the piece of paper he was giving me had the name, address, and phone number of the person who had found my wallet and turned it in. He said that I should call them and thank them. I said that I would. He asked if he should write the information in romaji and I told him that he needn’t bother as I could read Japanese. He then asked me to check the contents of the wallet. As I opened it I was dumbfounded that every single item in my wallet was still there right down to the money! Nothing was missing, not even a 500 yen note! It was all there! I signed a piece of paper accepting my wallet and it’s contents and that nothing was missing. This time I put my wallet in my bag and vowed that I would use a normal wallet from now on. No more trying to look cool.

As I left the station masters office I bowed and thanked him and headed for my train back home. I still couldn’t help but be awestruck that my wallet was turned in and that nothing was missing. I really expected the money to be gone at least. If this happened in the States, I’m sure I’d never see it again. The odds there were against me especially with all that cash in it. But some kind person may just as well have turned it in there also.

As I rode the train home I just couldn’t get over it. I had heard that the Japanese were an honest people, but this was just unbelievable. I looked at the paper and the name on it written in Japanese. It was a woman’s name and she lived in Atsugi city.

After I got to my own station I went immediately to a phone booth and dialed the number. A lady answered and it was she. I immediately guessed she was probably in her 40’s or so and told her who I was. I thanked her for finding my wallet and turning it in. She seemed more worried than I was as it had my bank card and train pass in it. She said that she noticed it on the seat of the train after I had gotten off. As the doors were already closed, she decided to turn it in at her station after finding no phone number for me in the wallet. She said that she worried about it all night as she knew I would be bothered by my loss. Leave it to the Japanese to be more concerned about the other person! She complimented me on my Japanese and I thanked her profusely and finally said good bye. Come to think of it, I’m sure I was also bowing my head while thanking her on the phone.

After hanging up the phone I immediately went to a nearby post office where I purchased an envelope. I asked for a sheet of paper from the postal person and wrote a thank you note in Japanese to this kind lady. After I signed my name, I reached into my bag for my wallet, opened it and removed a 10,000 yen note. I placed the note in the envelope and sealed it up; wrote down her address in Japanese and turned it in to the postal person. I had learned somewhere that it is a custom in Japan to pay a reward to the person finding, and turning in, a lost item. I fulfilled this custom.

As I left the post office and headed home I was more than happy that I was living in a country where some people do think about, and feel for others, including foreigners. The golden rule, so far as I knew, applied to Japan. And, as a side note, I still have that green silk wallet to this day. Once in a while I’ll go through my boxes, see it, and remember this experience.

Anyone who has lived for any length of time in Japan and knows a little bit of the language and culture knows the word chikan. The meaning of this word is a molester, but basically refers to a male who is prone to be a Peeping Tom, stealing woman’s underwear from their clothes lines, or even groping woman on the trains, catching a quick feel here and there, or pressing themselves into females. In other words, a pervert!

You can sometimes spot chikan ogling young school girls in their sailor uniforms. A brave woman or girl being molested or felt up on a train might blurt out, "chikan!" to warn others of his presence and have him taken down by others or arrested at the next train stop. It is because of this all too common practice in Japan and the prevalence of many chikan that nowadays there are "women only" cars during rush hour.

The female counterpart of chikan is "chijo" and basically has the same meaning, only referring to a female. And yes there are some chijo in Japan, but they are rare or hardly reported to the police. I mean what hot blooded male, in his right mind, would report that he was felt up by a woman on a train or other location other than to let all his friends know about it? I know I wouldn’t. And I didn’t report it either when it happened to me.

Yes, I was groped, or molested, or whatever you want to call it on a train by a female when I was a college student in Japan. I was shocked and awed at what happened, but I didn’t feel I was molested. No way, no how! In fact, after I got over the initial shock, I kind of enjoyed it and let her "take advantage" of me so to speak. Or at least, after I understood just what the hell was going on, let her "have her way with me." This is the story of that one and only experience I ever had with a chijo.

I was on my way back home from the university during rush hour and I didn¡Çt feel like waiting 20 minutes at the platform in Shinjuku for a seat on the Odakyu Express train that originated from there. I wanted to get home so I took my place in line for the next express train. I was ninth in the double line, so I knew I would not be getting a seat.

When the train arrived and all the people emptied out the left side of the train, the doors on the right side opened and everyone near the front scrambled for a seat. People are so desperate for a seat, especially after waiting 20 minutes, that they practically knock each other out of the way! Since I was so far back in the line I couldn’t get my favorite standing spot next to the door and was stuck standing near the door in the middle of the aisle. The train was crowded, but not very. I knew it would get worse at Yoyogi Uehara and Shimo Kitazawa, the next two express stops.

As usual, the crowd at Shimo Kitazawa at this time of the evening was large and the people were packed into the train. I mean we were so packed in that I didn¡Çt have to hold on to anything as the throng of people and the closeness of our bodies would keep me from losing my balance. That’s how close we were. It was so crowded that I hardly had any room to fold my magazine in quarters to read it.

As the train pulled out of the station all the people kind of moved backwards with the forward momentum of the train. One woman who had her back to me leaned into me with her butt and back. As the train gained speed and we were able to stand I kind of backed away from her an inch or so as I didn’t want her to think I was pressing into her or anything that may make her yell, "chikan!" and get me arrested or something.

It was about an 8-10 minute ride to the next express stop so I just got as comfortable as I could and began to read my magazine. To my astonishment the same woman in front of me moved back a little and placed her butt squarely in my crotch. I was startled and moved backward maybe a centimeter or so as there was virtually no room for me to move back much. I no sooner did that than she did it again. At first I thought it was an accident and, as there was no more room for me to move back without my pressing my butt into some guys crotch, I kind of arched my hips back a bit so my crotch wouldn’t be touching her butt. I no sooner did that than, again, she moved her butt against my crotch for a second time. Now I knew this was no accident. She was doing it on purpose.

I had heard that there were women, chijo, who sometimes did this on the train, but I had never personally experienced it myself in seven years of living there. I had heard that they did things similar to what chikan do, and I had even heard secondhand stories about how they would even grab a man’s crotch or massage his butt. Now I was experiencing it for the first time. Call me crazy, but I am a male and I was not about to let this experience with a chijo pass me by. If she was pitching, I was catching.

As she continued to press her butt into my crotch, I straightened up and, ever so lightly, proceeded to press my crotch back against her butt. The harder I pressed, the harder she pressed back and the harder I got! I remember thinking to myself, this is no accident. She’s actually encouraging this! So I pressed against her all the more. I shyly glanced around to make sure no one was looking at us, but it was really too crowded for anyone to really notice as we so packed together.

Throughout the entire ride to the next stop we pressed against each other so much it was as if we were making love. In a way we were making love. She would move her butt ever so slowly against my crotch in a circular motion, side to side, and then up and down a little. I couldn’t believe how aroused I had become and I responded in kind. All the while she had her head down pretending to read a book she had in her hands.

I never once saw her face, but I guessed she was in her 20’s. She had long black hair and was wearing what seemed to be a business suit. I could smell the hint of a nice perfume and the nice fragrance of her long shiny black hair. The top of her head came up to about my chin and we played our little "love making" game until the train pulled into the next station; her pressing against me and me responding in kind. I was so hard I couldn’t believe it. I thoroughly enjoyed her pressing her soft round butt against my rock hard crotch and enjoyed every minute of it. Any minute now and I knew I would have an orgasm.

As the train pulled into Seijo Gakkuen Mae station and the doors opened, she abruptly got off much to my dismay. I tried as best I could to get a look at her, but she had her head turned completely away from me, (probably on purpose) and I never even got a sideways glance at her face as she blended in with, and disappeared into the crowd. If she was beautiful I never knew, but I like to imagine she was as beautiful as my wildest fantasy.

As quite a few people got off at this station there was now room for me to stand in relative comfort and I took my usual place against the door for the remaining 20 minutes or so ride home. For obvious reasons I faced the door. The little tease had left me high and dry and frustrated, and I couldn’t wait to get home to "take care of my frustration!" Man was I turned on!

However, it was an experience I would never forget and I often think about it, with a smile, to this day, some 26 years later, of the chijo who had the nerve to molest a foreigner on a crowded train in Japan. (Something told me this was not her first experience.)

If chijo ever became so prevalent in Japan that they had to hav
e separate cars for men, women, and mixed, I’m pretty sure the men only cars would be empty or filled with men looking to have an experience with other men. I know I would not ride in a men only car. Co-ed all the way for me! I mean what hetero man in his right mind would ride in a male only car?

When I relayed this experience to my Japanese friends, both male and female, they didn’t seem all that surprised and both had said that, although rare, it is not unheard of for chijo to do that on trains. Maybe that is why men do it. Maybe, they are making the first move hoping they are interacting with, or hoping to find, a chijo. I don’t know. In my case it never happened again with a female although I have had more than a few men press themselves up against me both before and after this unique experience. In those cases, I either moved out of the way, got off at the next stop and then back on again, or found another spot quickly in the same or another car. But I didn’t make a scene and they never persisted or I may have ended up being arrested for assaulting someone.

Some of my Japanese friends even hinted that "she" might have been a male transvestite. I say who cares! If "she" was, so what! My mind, at the time, didn’t know the difference and thought for sure it was a woman and that’s all that mattered at the time.

After that exhilarating experience I often didn’t mind taking a crowded train at rush hour and kind of looked forward to it. In fact I often made it a point to take a crowded train for a while after that experience. But, I never experienced it again. And, I would never make the first move myself and press myself against a woman on purpose for fear of being called a chikan and maybe getting arrested. It is just not my style.

As a matter of fact, groping and the feeling up of women on trains has become so prevalent these days that the train companies in Japan are forced to have women only cars during the rush hour, especially in the mornings. Also, there are more than a few women these days on trains who yell "chikan!" and blame some innocent man for groping them when they never touched them. They do this so they can extort money from them in lieu of pressing charges. Therefore, if you happen to find yourself on a crowded train in Japan these days be real leery of any woman pressing herself up against you as she may just be trying to trap you.

Whoever you are, chijo-san, you gave a young man an experience he’ll never forget and one he’ll fondly cherish forever. And for that, being a hot blooded male at the time, I thank you. Heck, I would even savor it with as much delight today as I did back then, but times are different.