Japan 2003

Here is a little memory of something that happened years ago:

While serving in the Philippines I decided to fly to Japan to hang out with my amazing cousin, Judy, and her husband, for Christmas and New Year’s. They were teaching English in Kochi, many hours south of Osaka, on a different island and I was volunteering with a mission agency in the Philippines. We decided that it would be fun to meet in Japan for Christmas and New Year’s. A friend in Manila helped me to organize plane tickets, but just hours before leaving, news arrived that she had confused the hours of my departure. I would be flying out of Manila at 6 pm instead of 4 pm and that would mean I miss the overnight train I was supposed to take from Osaka to Kochi.

After a few moments of frustration, my team-mates all met me at the local airport to pray with me before I flew up to Manila. Being surrounded by friends who cared, and giving it all to God, allowed peace to reign in my heart. I flew up to Manila, transferred over to the international airport, and called Phil and Judy to let them know that I didn’t know when I would be arriving in Kochi. I was still rather nervous because I had always heard that Japan is super expensive and I didn’t want to spend a night in Osaka that was unplanned. Thankfully though, I continued to give it to God, knowing He was in control.

The scheduled five hour flight took only four and a half hours, so I thought maybe I had a chance. The train station is connected to the International airport, so I thought there would be no problems. Upon arriving I raced over to the trains and could not find a single English speaking person anywhere. The only way to buy a train ticket was through an ATM machine. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I couldn’t read Japanese characters, so I had no idea how to get to Kyoto, which is a main train station, about 15 minutes away, where I could catch the overnight train. It took me close to 20 minutes to find someone who could speak English and who was willing to help me purchase a ticket to Kyoto.

I took the tram train to Kyoto and arrived just 17 minutes after the overnight train departed to Kochi. Bummer! There were some short conductors on the platforms, directing people where to go. I asked some of them how to get to Kochi, and the only English they knew was “Sorry ma’am, you missed the train.” I knew that already. I wanted to know when the next train was... does it leave in the morning? Does the train only go every night at 11 pm? Repeatedly they said “Sorry ma’am, you missed the train!”

Slowly I started taking more and more layers of clothing out of my backpack and putting them on, because I was freezing. Japan was much colder than the Philippines. The ticket booths had closed for the night and I didn’t know where else to go. I started making myself at home on the platform, thinking I would spend the night there. Two hours past, the number of trains leaving the station came to a crawling halt and the number of conductors greatly decreased. Just after 1 am one of these dainty conductor men motioned for me to follow him. Warily I followed, somewhat out of boredom, somewhat out of curiosity.

We exited the platform through a single door and started meandering our way through tunnels and down staircases. In my head I was reprimanding myself for being so naive and following him, but I also felt that there just might be a light at the end of this tunnel. Moments later we stepped inside a warm office room, with a small sitting area and a row of computers. Twelve or so computers, each with a person behind them, filled the room. Ah! This must be the central hub for the train organization. I sat on one of the big cushy chairs that were pointed out to me and waited. Soon a young man came to greet me... a young man who spoke English. Once again I said, “Thank you God!” He wanted to know how he could help me.

I explained my situation and my desire to get to Kochi as soon as possible. This kind man disappeared for about five minutes while I tried to keep my eyes open. I was exhausted. He returned with a smart looking schedule for me. The train would depart at 5:20 am and should arrive shortly after 10 am. He went the extra mile for me because the trip had four transfers and the Japanese characters on the printout did little to help me. Delightfully, this young man translated everything. He wrote all over the schedule: what time the train would arrive, and on which platform; how many minutes I had before the train departed from another platform, etc. Yeah! I asked him if I could take a three hour nap in the chair I was sitting in before heading back up to the platform and he said, “Sure!”

At 5 a.m. I found my way back up to the platform with my beautifully planned schedule in hand. I just needed to purchase a ticket. There was a man sitting in the ticket booth, but when I approached he said that the booth wasn’t open until 5:30. Problem! My train leaves at 5:20 a.m. He motioned for me to exit the turnstiles and silly me – I did. That brought me to ticket machines with characters I once again couldn’t read. Frustrated, I started asking people if they spoke English. I couldn’t find anyone, but two young ladies came tiptoeing over to see how they could help. They quickly made their way over to the man in the booth with my schedule, but he shook his head repeatedly, and the girls shrugged their shoulders as they returned the schedule to me.

At 5:19 a.m. the man in the ticket booth comes dashing out, punches a stamp on my schedule and brings me through the turnstiles, down to the trains, and puts me on a train. The doors close and I am on my way. I knew I was on the right train, but totally confused about what just happened. Arriving at the next station I made my way over to the now open ticket booths and ended up paying for all the trains I was supposed to take that morning. I was delighted.

I spent most of the morning checking out gorgeous countryside. I didn’t have time to call Judy because the stopovers were such a short time, so I just relaxed, knowing that God was taking care of everything. On my fifth and final train there was a little boy who decided to become my friend. He tried to teach me Japanese words for every appendage on my face. He giggled when I recorded him on my video camera and then played it back to him. With a half hour left on my journey, the little boy’s mother turned around in her seat in front of me and thanked me in clear English for entertaining her son. We chatted for a while. She explained how they were traveling to Kochi to tour the many Hindu temples in the area and she showed me her intricately carved prayer walking stick.

To my surprise, she said, “This morning I went to the market and asked for two boiled eggs, so that we could have breakfast on our journey. The egg vendor forced me to take three eggs for the price of two, and now I know why. Will you share breakfast with us?” Absolutely! Together we ate and chatted until the train pulled in to the Kochi station. I found a pay phone and easily connected with a screaming Judy, who was excited that I was only 10 minutes away. Soon our happy reunion began. Praise God!