A close language school friend and I went to Akihabara yesterday to meet our Taiwanese friend. We had never met Anita before, but Akira and I both talked to her quite extensively on Facebook, and we have a mutual friend who went to our language school last year. Anita is staying in Tokyo for a week, at a cool place that’s basically called the Ninja Hotel, or something similar, so luckily we had a chance to meet her.
I met up with Akira in Shibuya, where we walked around for a few hours, and I somehow managed to attain a beautiful crimson sunburn. We made our way to Akihabara, where we met our Taiwanese friend Anita. Meeting up at large train stations is no easy feat, especially when dealing with cell phones from three different countries. Calling for me is cost prohibitive, and Akira’s phone didn’t seem to like Anita’s Taiwanese number. Anita ended up having to use a payphone to get in touch with Akira. We finally found Anita and after we introduced ourselves she immediately realized that she left her camera at the payphone. It wasn’t the kind of camera that you merely shrug off if you lose it, it was the cry for weeks sort of camera that equates to the value of a small child. Naturally, it wasn’t at the payphone. Being in the Cincinnati mindset, I knew that her camera had been stolen, but I suggested that we check the station office anyway. If anything, we could at least have had a glimpse at the dirty thief who stole it, because there was surveillance camera facing the payphones.
The gate officer made a call to security, and we heard the glorious Japanese word for “have.” It turns out that Japanese train stations actually hire people to watch the security monitors, and the cameras are not fakes, as many are in America. Security noticed that Anita had left something at the phone and went to retrieve it. The mousy security woman made her way to the counter holding the shiny-white Lumix, and I have to say that I’ve never been so emotionally invested in someone else’s possession. It turns out that her brother had just given her the camera for her birthday, in June I believe, so it was barely a month old.
You can say whatever you’d like about Japan, whether you think it’s the glorious epicenter of technology, a cultural wonderland, or an overcrowded Otaku-laden nightmare, but you can never question the honor and integrity displayed by the Japanese people. This is a culture that has evolved around taking responsibility for one’s actions and putting personal opinions aside in favor of social harmony. I’ve never felt so safe or respected as I do here in Japan. I’ve been told that pickpockets even return your wallet, cards intact, after they’ve taken you yen and perhaps you Mister Doughnut point card.
It’s easy to criticize a country with which one has no experience, especially when information outlets only tend to display the negative or sensationalist. In truth, there is a give and take with every culture, America included. Japan is a hard place to live, in terms of excessive work and strain of everyday life, but it’s a culturally rich country with kind and caring people, some of whom I’ve been lucky enough to develop friendships with. American lifestyle is more relaxed, with exponentially more time to explore friendship and personal endeavors, but it lacks the community, focus, and safety that come standard with Japanese life. In the end, it’s about preference, and the only certainty is that there is no “greatest country in the world,” an idea perpetrated by those who only see in black and white and never shades of grey. Every country, state, city, and town has a different personality, and it seems to me that the happy person spends his or her life trying to find the best fit, a place that will allow one to achieve his or her own aspirations.
