The Accidental Stormtrooper

by Moris Deri (Japan)

Making a local connection Japan

“台風のため、列車の運行は中止されます。” A gobbledygook of what must have been carefully curated kanjis splattered across the announcement boards glared ominously at me from every imaginable direction. The accompanying broadcast was strange too. I was under attack. No, not because it was in Japanese, but the man behind the mic was implementing that fascinating anime tone of voice so as to sound both cute and formal at the same time. Anybody who has been to Japan would know exactly what I’m talking about, ha! I took note of every syllable said, and decided that it wasn’t directed at me. There was no need to take it personally. Just blend in like the rest of the passersby, I cried in half a breath, even if they were uncharacteristically scarce for a Tuesday in the middle of Umeda. Stepping outside, the late summer’s rain greeted my face with a few light thuds. The neon signs all over the streets blinked nervously at the sight of yet another naïve gaijin jubilantly popping his “I am in Japan!” cherry. The pedestrian light turned green for a long time, but there was nobody around to honor its hard work. Only Don Quijote and Matsunoya had silhouettes in them, moving suspiciously as if to avoid my attention. There was literally no one else but me in this city. How eerie, I thought as I struggled to retain that evanescent stench of freshly baked takoyaki of unknown provenance. It soon became obvious that I was in a foreign land, and that something was definitely wrong with this picture. You see, I have always been this drunken freespirit whose idea of a good time is being lost in the reverie of both an alien landscape and happy fugue. That means letting the journey take me, instead of having a proper itinerary to the must-not-miss sculpture of some fruit balanced on a spoon in Minneapolis. That means sharing a can of near-frozen beans with an exhausted backpacker from Bolivia while waiting for the sun to rise up the horizon of Turku. That means peeling off leeches that had found refuge in my calves as I waded through the Bornean marshes looking for rafflesias, and possibly crocodiles. In this case, it was putting myself on a cheap flight to Osaka, and then a train to wherever, only to be stuck in the middle of an incoming typhoon. Yes, I was in the eye of Typhoon Hagibis when it struck. And I had heard the announcements emanating from basically all imaginable airwaves right before I took that Hankyu Express train. People were evacuating hurriedly but I couldn’t take a hint. I laugh in the face of danger, and that is a very bad habit I knew I needed to kick then. By then, it was too late to realize the mess I was in. The sky turned overcast quickly, and the wind howled with a forceful vengeance I was sure it was mocking me. Of course, the train services had to be discontinued in order to make sure I paid for my folly right where knowing English is considered a liability rather than an actual skill. The train master sent me away with a map that I couldn’t read. And soon, I was in the streets again half thankful that konbinis were everywhere (that means free wifi!), and half fearful that the battery would die on me before I could Google-map my way back to the hotel. A car honked behind me as I struggled to keep my newly bought newly broken umbrella open. A lady in her late 60s had rescued me and given me expensive-looking fruits, and kindly scolded me for being wet in very bad Japanese (she had to tone it down for me). We became friends in the worst possible scenario but it was that kindness that I immediately missed about Japan. And two years later, I am back! This time, I will be rooted for a while just to learn the kanji that I had taken for granted in order to give this country a second chance at playing an amazing host. It has taken me a while, but now I know exactly what it said on that announcement board 