Like I mentioned in my previous post, in the airport, as a gaijin (white foreigner) all it took was a little bit of confused and distressed facial expressions for some one to come ask me how they could help. Travelling around Osaka was no different. Using the trains and subways I think Japanese people are very used to seeing lost foreigners.
I’ll admit that I didn’t exactly fit in walking around Osaka. It is the third-largest city in Japan and largely metropolitan. Not to mention that I was carting around two bags and a large rolling suitcase. At the airport at least, there is a desk where someone will help you buy the right transportation tickets. Past that, I just try my best to blend in and follow how everyone else navigates through the different lanes. Even trying to blend in and feeling somewhat confident, if I stopped for a minute to get my bearings someone would walk up to me and ask in English where I was trying to go. I have lost all my pride being in this country. I don’t know the language; I don’t fit in and I don’t know where I am. I am so grateful for all the people who want to help.
I can count the number of obviously not Asian people that I’ve seen here on two hands. I have not been in touristy areas.The Japanese that can speak English are very excited to use it. For example, sitting on the subway a woman was reading her English phrase book. When the subway came to a stop, she saw that I was not standing up. She informed me that this was the last stop (where I was trying to go anyway). She explained to me that she was learning English and would like to help me catch my next transfer.
There are many different subway lines color coded with different colors. There are many different trains and then there are many buses and a bullet train. There is very little to no English on any of the signs.
I was very grateful as the woman personally escorted me through the large Namba station and helped me find my next stop. She explained to me how to read the different stop types and thank God for her kindness. She had to catch another train to go see her aging mother.
To be honest, getting to the right station wasn’t half as hard as finding your way out of the station. Each station has an underground system that has many different exits called chomes. I had a painful time finding the right chome. Thankfully, while looking at a map another young woman came to help me. Not only did she point me in the right direction and walk me to my chome, but she also called my hotel to ask for directions on how to get there.
On the way to the chome we came to a series of stairs. My bag is roughly two pounds under the fifty pound weight limit. Either I would roll it down, making loud gunshot thumps with each step, or I would carry it down silently like a Japanese. I struggled and the the young woman helped me carry the bag, too. We looked ridiculous huddled on either side of the bag and laughing hysterically together. It was heavy!!
When we got to the bottom both of us were looking down laughing and breathing hard with many stares. Upon looking up there was another set of stairs going up. We laughed again. Telling that story after I made it to the hotel I remembered her saying in English:
“We are funny. Puppies are crying.”
[ In Japan TrVL] 