DIVING IN

We arrived in Tokyo on Thursday late afternoon. Less than 36 hours later, it feels as if we've been here a week. Part of the reason may be that with Sawako's guidance, we dove head first into the ocean of humanity that seems to be in constant motion in this metropolis of 20+ million people. For our first day on Friday, Sawako's goal for us was to experience the commuter life in the city along with the millions that move about each day with the precision of a marching band, or more like a choreographed dance.

Our hotel is in central Tokyo, near the Suidobashi station for those of you who've been here before. It is new and lovely, with many traditional design touches, such as a shoji screen on the window and a traditional tea set for our morning libation. But the $29 dollar per person breakfast price tag impelled us out early for our first excursion on a rainy Friday morning. The streets were packed already by 8:20 am. Our first challenge came almost immediately as we stood facing a sea of umbrellas on the other side of the street. The light changed, we took a deep breath and braced for the clash. But none came. Instead of the expected swerving and avoiding, it was as if the seas had parted to let us through with nary a brush or crossed umbrella. It was my first inkling of that amazing ability of the Japanese to create a space around themselves, both to protect their own space but also aware of their relation to others at all times, allowing for quick adjustments. The same experience occurred on the subway -- although visually we knew the train was packed to the gills, our experience of it felt calm and our personal space protected.

Sawako tells us that there are rules for everything you do in these public arenas. Arrows point to which side of the steps you should ascend and descend. Posters show a line drawing of a man eating a cup of noodles on the train, with the caption "Do it at home." As a train drives up, two columns form instantly on either side of the opening door to allow passengers to disembark. On an escalator, one should stand on the left side to allow people in a rush to move past you. I only saw this law broken once, when Sawako pointed out a lady just to her right who simply stood there, suddenly halting the line of moving passengers behind her. Although I barely noticed it, Sawako leaned over and said: "The passengers behind her are fuming, but they won't say anything." Definitely not a "Me, First" culture.

Our lesson in commuter culture continued with an attempt to make sense of the Tokyo public transport system. There are 13 subway lines, the Japan Railways system, and multiple private rail systems criss-crossing like a bowl of noodles tangled up in one big colorful mess. You learn here to appreciate the small gifts of having the names of the stops in Roman letters, though that is not a uniform practice in all the stations. And then there are the colors. Not just red, blue, green, yellow, but three different shades of orange, a light and a somewhat darker blue, a pink that sort of looks red, etc. The test of how well we learned our lesson comes today, Saturday, when the chicks leave Momma Sawako and venture out on their own for a day trip to Kamakura, an hour southwest of Tokyo and the site of dozens of temples, including one that boasts the largest outdoor Buddha in Japan.

One more item that I can't do justice with words so I simply included a picture: Sawako's welcome dinner at a lovely French restaurant that specializes in vegetarian and fish dishes. A multi-course meal that was a symphony of flavors and textures and visually stunning.