On Lost Items and Japanese Competency.

[sechan19]

If there’s one wonderful thing about Tokyo (and, in fact, there are, like, a billion of them), it’s that if you lose something, the chances are that you will be reunited with it.

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to plunge myself into the realm of true Tokyoite behavior. To whit, I left my umbrella on the metro. Now, from what I understand, many people never go back for their umbrellas when they lose them. They simply buy a new one. However, this umbrella is particularly nice. It has an automatic opening mechanism, matches my backpack (and is therefore very stylish), and has a lifetime warranty. Also, I knew I could get it back for less money than buying a cheap one at the conbini would cost. I resolved to retrieve my umbrella, if such a thing were possible.

I went first to the nearest station and explained the situation to the stationmaster. I described the circumstances of the loss and the appearance of the umbrella, and the stationmaster asked me to wait while he checked. A few minutes later, he was explaining to me that it had been found and that it had been sent to the lost items depot that is located in Ueno Station. He gave me a pamphlet explaining the center’s opening hours and procedures, and he did me the courtesy of giving me the Japanese-language version.

Given that the center was closed on Sunday, I hurried out to the depot as quickly as possible on Monday afternoon, having read that lost items are sent to a police station after three or four days. At Ueno Station, I asked directions for the lost and found center of a very nice metro employee and subsequently made my way there, where I once again explained the circumstances of the loss and the appearance of the umbrella. This time, I was led into a backroom that was positively stuffed with umbrellas of every size and color. (I had been told that the number one lost item in the metro was umbrellas, and now I believe it!)

I told the lost and found employee that my umbrella was of the short persuasion, and he directed me to the short umbrella stack, where--amazement and delight--I spotted my own beloved umbrella in three seconds flat. We brought it back to the front desk, where I filled out a small form with my name, address, and phone number, and I further impressed the depot worker by writing my address all in kanji.

When he marveled, “Oh, you’re writing it in kanji!” I replied, “Well, it’ll be easier for you to read this, won’t it?” And I was rewarded with a quite appreciative smile. We bowed, I expressed my profound thanks, he demurred in the typical Japanese fashion, and I headed back to my metro line to go on home.

All in all, I couldn’t be happier with the experience. The sun may now shine as much as it pleases from here on out. I have my trusty umbrella, and should I be so silly as to lose it again (number one lost item in Tokyo!) I know that I can get it back with a minimum of fuss.

Comments

[lordameth.livejournal.com]

Sweet.

And a neat cultural/linguistic experience to boot.

I lost my precious Yakult Swallows umbrella on the subway when I was there as a study abroad student five years ago... and never really thought to try to seek a lost-and-found. 'Course, my Japanese was also much worse back then.

[alateaqoe.livejournal.com]

I recall that you once lost my umbrella at a Metro stop in Paris. I don't recall if we ever made an attempt to recover it.

You definitely need to keep better track of your umbrellas. ;)

[reteva.livejournal.com]

Language really does make a tremendous difference. I've seen a number of my friends struggle with what are, for me, simple exchanges. As for going after the umbrella, though, it's just my nature. I'm the type of person who will always investigate all options. Makes for a long decision process from time to time. Heh.

Thanks for reading and continuing to offer feedback, by the way. It's always really encouraging.