Caution, あぶない, Cuidado
Dear Reader,
Tonight I have so many things to write about. I am honestly afraid this post might take me 2 hours to write. My mind is racing with so many experiences, and I want to share them all with you. Yet, there is a problem.
I don’t know where to start!
I suppose I should start at the beginning. That would make sense. So what is the beginning? Let’s travel back in time just 8 hours, to roughly 630PM Friday, July 3.
This Friday was a little different than most. I traveled to a new train station near Meguro on the Namboku train line. Its name escapes me at the moment (either because of the late hour I am typing this - 230AM - or the slight dose of alcohol that keeps me inebriated). There I met some friends to play basketball against a different team, of whom I have never met.
Basketball was rather fun, as always. But, today I enjoyed it more than normal, even though we lost the game. Why? Well, my friend Mo-kun and I were talking at half-time about the other team. In the first half, I played defense against their biggest guy (a decent 2-3 inches taller than myself, and with a good jump-shot near the basket). I told Mo-kun that I thought this guy was good (he did score several nice shots), but I thought he didn’t play very physical and might buckle under some good pressure.
Mo-kun responded saying I should play very physical, and that I should trash-talk him too. I was a little surprised.
本当に、Trash talk は 大丈夫ですか？ (Seriously, is trash talking OK?)
“hai, eigo de!” he replied (Yes, do it in English!)
I decided to do it. I haven’t trash-talked since Peter (co-worker) and I played ball together. But even then, it wasn’t like the trash talk that Bernard and I use to give each other each time we hit the court. I have to admit, I miss trash-talking… not because I want to be rude, but because it gets the adrenaline going - it increases competitiveness - it makes you give more effort than you would when just being silent.
So i did it… maybe in excess, maybe not. In the second half, I constantly talked in English to my opponent even though I knew he couldn’t understand 75% of what I was saying. I played very physical against their biggest guy, I didn’t give him any ground - I conceded not a single shot or rebound to him in the second half. I felt powerful.
Although my team still lost, we gained a lot of traction in the second half (not solely because of me… we played more cohesively in the second half). I really enjoyed letting my mouth run as much as my feet, even though the only person that laughed (without comprehension of what exactly I was saying) was Mo-kun.
Afterwards, we all went to a nice cheap 居酒屋 (bar / restaurant) for a couple drinks and food. We used the time to chat (and I enjoyed practicing my nihongo) and discuss our strategy for the next game. But this part isn’t very important to the narrative, I’m sure you are not interested in how we plan to deal with a 2-1-2 zone defense - or how to execute a full-court press with better precision. However, I detoured this post to this 飲み会 (drinking-communication) because I wanted to share a bit about what I ate (which means there is more after this!).
Besides the usual things - octopus+wasabi, radish, some ramen noodles, fried potatoes, and a little taste of grilled chicken - I had 2 first-time experiences:
Manta ray, slightly grilled with a dab of mayonnaise (Japanese people love mayo)
This was the hardest to eat. I couldn’t believe when they told me they love shrimp brains. Yes, I ate shrimp brains.
I honestly can’t recommend shrimp brains. However, my friends say that crab brains are even better!
So, after a lot of chatting and enjoyable conversation, it was time for us to go home. The last trains were scheduled to run soon, so we had to hurry off to our connecting stations.
After just a few stops, I was fully separated from the rest of the group because everyone had different trains to take. No worries though, I was not lost and finding home has become almost mundane these days.
Instead, the rest of this story revolves around one small incident on the 山の手 (Yamanote) train.
In between stations, close to Yurakucho, I started to notice the raised voice of a guy standing directly behind me. He was talking in a rough tone, condescending in its pitch and accents. Directly following, I heard the voice of a lady say “すみません、ごめんなさい” (excuse me, I’m very sorry). I glanced to my right and saw the lady that spoke, she saw me and and surprisingly stared me in the eye (usually people look away or down). She was probably in her 50s, and she was shorter than me (like most all women in Japan) - perhaps she was 5′4″.
I could tell she was a bit worried, but I wasn’t sure what was really happening - so I decided to listen for anything else that might be said. And, without pause I heard the guy behind me talk again in very rough / impolite Japanese. I couldn’t catch everything he said (some words I just could not translate), but he said something to the effect of (CAUTION very foul language follows) “this is crazy, you are fucking rude, i am standing here
I tried to turn my head the other way to see who this guy was, but I couldn’t see anything but his shoulder (no taller than me). I snapped my head back the other way, and I saw the little lady sincerely repeat “すみません、ごめんなさい” (excuse me, I’m very sorry) along with something else of a very polite nature.
The train started to stop. I kept repeating the scenario in my head, trying to think of what caused it and what it all really meant (trying to mentally translate some of the phrases that I didn’t understand). The guy behind me kept hurling rude remarks, he was far from the polite formal Japanese that I practice. He was obnoxious, and he was clearly drunk.
I fumbled with my thoughts. I was partially intoxicated - yet my brain was still working quite well (a curse at times). I wondered if this guy would ever shut up, and all the while I was still trying to absorb every word he threw out.
The doors opened, and the lady again apologized with a slight bow, then she made her way for the exit. I was glad, this thing was finally over - peace and quiet…. no, I only hoped that. The guy behind me began to move, he was following her. I then noticed that she was not alone, there was a guy on her right-side. He was wearing a nice suit, she was in a dress - perhaps they were married and had just enjoyed a night drinking and eating with friends. They were both in their 50s.
I got a glance of the guy behind me, as he moved toward them. He was younger, but not much. I think he was in his early 40s… maybe mid-forties (guessing the age of Japanese people is very difficult).
It startled me, honestly, that this Japanese guy was moving so aggressively toward them. Japanese people are known for their desire to avoid confrontation, they dislike public displays of emotion… they abhor attention. However, he was different in character - and the alcohol was certainly making it apparent.
He grabbed the lady’s companion by the shoulder with considerable ferocity. His grip pulled the man’s suit off his left shoulder, and garnered a shocked look from the man himself. The obnoxious guy was no longer behind me, they were all stepping out of the train, and he was pulling on the suit while raising his voice with an even more putrid barrage of filth: “バカヤロ” - he said as he finished his first of several new verbal tirades.
The three of them were standing just 3 steps from the train doors, I was standing next to the doors - with my gym bag stored on a shelf above the seats to my left.
The guy again repeated much of his obscene vocabulary - mostly directed at the lady. She and her companion quietly took it, bowing in rapid succession and in lower voices continuously saying “I’m very sorry.” The drunk guy began pointing his finger at the lady, his voice didn’t subside.
My blood pressure was skyrocketing, I know my face was red - or at least showing signs of anger. Another passenger across from me looked at me in shock, then began to pay attention to the ordeal outside the train.
The whole situation appalled me, but not because that guy was drunk and obnoxious. Drunk and obnoxious is something I’ve seen enough of in the US, seeing it here is no different. Except, when it is.
That guy was yelling at an older lady that was half his size (as-if size actually matters, which it doesn’t in this case). What is worse, is that her friend/husband/co-worker did nothing on her behalf. Instead, they kept apologizing to this complete asshole who was clearly going overboard. He kept thrusting his finger in her face, she kept apologizing, her friend likewise did the same - and nobody said a damn word in their defense.
At that moment (a mere few seconds) my mind was racing, my blood was boiling, everything inside me was pumping adrenaline faster than I thought possible in these circumstances. Then, I realized why. Every chivalrous sinew, tendon, bone, and muscle wanted nothing more than to knock that guy out cold as ice. For a split second, I imagined what it would be like if that guy was talking to Ayako that way. I imagined how I would be completely unable to stop this guy with words - because my words wouldn’t be constructed clear enough for him to take seriously. I’d have to skip the formalities of telling him to shut-up, he’d just have to figure out how to talk with a fist in his face. Although I grew up with 3 older brothers, I’m not a tough-guy, but I’m not afraid to start boxing.
By this time, the doors began to close. I fumbled in my mind for something to say or do to release all that tension. I wanted to yell at that guy “うるせ！” (shut up!), but the word came too late and all my alternative half-contemplated phrases were laughable at best.
The train lurched forward, my fists were clenched, I released my thoughts in English - and nobody knew the difference. Lights passed by, the world kept spinning, and time caught up with itself. And, I with it.
