Lost in Japan – Durkin’s Year Abroad

Trouble with Da Cops

Some say that Kadoma is a city of crime. (If you didn’t click on that link, please do so immediately. Please watch the wonderful dancing sequence). Anyway, it’s actually Hirakata (the city that my school is located in) not Kadoma (the city that I live in) that is the city of crime. There is a ton of bicycle theft and blah blah blah. All of that pales in comparison to the problem that I found myself in this evening on my commute home…

As I exited the train station and made my way toward the bike garage located across the river I noticed that the cops from the nearby station were positioned in strategic locations on both sides of the bridge telling people to turn their bike lights on (it’s illegal to ride without a light on). As I reached into my pocket to retreive my bicycle key, I noticed that I had forgotten my bicycle light. I stopped to consider my options for a moment: I could either leave my bicycle in the garage for the evening and walk home (not an option) or walk the bike past the police and please foreigner-ness, hoping that I wouldn’t receive too stern a talkin’ too about my disobediance. I quickly settled on the latter of these options and began to make my way past the police.

As I began to read the corner I heard the police office call out to me (it was in Japanese, of course, but I’ll translate it for you as follows):

Policeman: Please turn on your bicycle-light (he pointed to the attached light on the front of my bicycle which is broken)

Me: Ah, excuse me but it’s broken.

Policeman: Bo-ro-ken? (in Japanese-style pronunciation of English)

Me: Yes, broken. I usually attach a light here (I pointed to the handelbars) and use it, but I regretfully forgot it today…

Policeman: Ah, your Japanese is very good!

Me: Oh, no no, not really. 

Policeman: Well, just be careful, ok? What’s ‘be careful’ in English again? 

Me: Be careful. 

Policeman: Hmm? Sorry? I didn’t understand. One more time please?

Me: Be careful.

Policeman: Ah, I see! “Be careful!”

And then I left him on the street corner and walked away with the bicycle. Coincidentally, I hopped on my bike one street over and rode it home. I guess my point is, if this happened in America I might be beaten, bloodied, and in prison right now because I think I reached into my pocket at least once during the conversation. But who’s comparing, anyway?

 

Happy April 1st.

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