Thursday, October 20, 2011

The strangest stranger I have never met

There is a story I have been meaning to tell you.

This is the history of what is, to date, the strangest, most singular, occurrence since my arrival in Japan. 

It was afternoon on a Sunday, and I spent the morning shopping in Umeda celebrating my first paycheck. After departing home again for Kyoto and further adventuring, I made my way to the train station. I was occupied with my phone as I made my approach toward the train station escalator, when a man called out "Hello!" in a very big voice. As the most plausible English speaker in the vicinity, I slowed and searched around for the owner of the voice. I saw him then descending the stairs adjacent to the escalator at my feet. 
I waited a moment as he rushed toward me, a man in his middle thirties in casual dress. As he approached he thrust out his hand, again repeating "Hello!" It appeared as though he recognized me, though I could not return the favor. He seemed as much a stranger to me as would nutella to marmite. 
In his hands were a sad slightly deflated green balloon, fastened to a yellow plastic stick, and a bag which he shuffled about for a minute or so in order to shake my hand. 
It became evident that there was something he really wanted to say to me but had become uncertain--either he did not know how to express himself to a foreigner or he was as confused as I was. Nevertheless, he proceeded in Japanese to say a few lines to me, to which I automatically replied, assuming he was asking my country of origin. Thus, without listening for any key Japanese words that I may know to help me decipher his inquiries, I just blurted out "America-jin desu." Now we were both sincerely confused and all efforts of communication were proving useless. 
Balloon in hand, he gestured to me. I was under the impression he really wanted to give me the balloon. However, he was also hesitant. But since we were currently in front of the escalator and blocking  the traffic of anyone who wished to hop aboard, he made another small gesture to me to follow him and move away from whatever inconvenience we might soon cause. You see, today was special; an event was taking place which coincided with the train station. This being the case, there was also an inordinate amount of families and children milling about. Presumably, this festival was where the balloon originated. 
The man peered at me with an ever greater amount of hesitation. Perhaps he was trying to decide if he mistook me for someone else? But his internal conflict was resolved and he decided that he was not mistaken and I am just the person he believed me to be. He continued walking into the bike parking lot, immediately perpendicular to the station, at a slow pace. 
He lead me to a small opening between two buildings. Before I continue, I would like to remind you that it was still daylight and there were many families about. Additionally, I was still on the phone, and though I had halted my end of that conversation, the recipient end can still hear everything going on. It is evident that he had been to this location before as he called to someone who was just beyond the gated gap between the buildings. Following his exclamation, about four or five train station personnel in their official blue suits and white gloves appeared.  
The man conversed with these new faces for a brief instant and the balloon was passed between them. Comprehension dawned on their faces and gratitude followed suit. They immediately began to bow and apologize to me, as well as thank me. Now I must admit I was at the height of my confusion; clearly, I could not be whomever they believed me to be, so I immedaitely attempted to reject their sincerest efforts, but it was of no use. They were adamant. 
Well I made for a quick exit and back pedal from the situation before it went any further. I slowly recovered the twenty or so paces to the escalator and, as I did, I see my mystery balloon man, to whom I was never properly introduced, walk a few paces and halt to bend and pick up a lose piece of plastic. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him return to that same gateway to the train station personnel. Whatever the case, I was positive it certainly did not concern me and I proceeded making my way to Kyoto, my conversation resumed. 

No comments:

Post a Comment