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Tokyo Express Endurance Train.
Apr. 18th, 2007 02:37 pmOrdinarily I leave school at around 5pm, which is about an hour before the official start of Tokyo rush hour. Yesterday, however, an orientation on the class's weekend trip to Kamakura delayed me until 6pm, and when I reached Shinjuku Station the crush was in full swing.
I was just in time to catch an express train heading to Fujisawa, by way of Yamato Station, but the price was terribly high.
I. Have. NEVER. In my life. Seen that many people. On One. Single. Train.
Not in Paris. Not in London. Not in Madrid, or New York, or San Francisco.
Never.
It was like being down front at a Nine Inch Nails show.
Seriously.
Sardines packed in a tin. And at every stop for the first half-hour of the trip (which takes about forty-five minutes total) no one got off the train while more people crowded on.
Many people weren't able to hold handrails or grips, so they just swayed en mass with the curves and tilts of the train. Periodically, as one of the people on the outside with access to something to hold, I caught the brunt of the weight of twenty or so people. Thank god I'm a scrapper is all I have to say.
Despite this tension and discomfort, I really did find the experience fascinating. Thousands, upon thousands, of people make this type of trip every day. And they've developed means of dealing with it.
First and foremost, the Japanese sense of face is ever present. Every person on that train is a statue. They don't stare at anyone else. They don't talk. They don't fidget or fuss or try to find that pesky piece of chewing gum that they know they put in their purse this morning.
Secondly, and most intriguing to me, is the fact that almost every single commuter in Tokyo has an mp3 player. Everyone listens to music on the commute, young and old alike. I saw an elderly man, who had been given a seat by a younger businessman, tapping out a funky beat on his leg as he listened to something on an iPod yesterday. (Although, of course, his facial expression never gave any indication of his ongoing groove.)
People make their own space here, and other people in close proximity to them have the utmost respect for and sense of that space. I defy you to try that in Paris, or anywhere else for that matter. And though I don't intend to make a habit of traveling during peak rush hour. It's certainly something that can be lived through and appreciated - at least on an analytical level.
EDIT: Now that I reflect, it seems to me that I have been on a train once that was nearly as crowded as this - in Paris, during the millennium celebration. Now that was a fucked up donkey show.
I was just in time to catch an express train heading to Fujisawa, by way of Yamato Station, but the price was terribly high.
I. Have. NEVER. In my life. Seen that many people. On One. Single. Train.
Not in Paris. Not in London. Not in Madrid, or New York, or San Francisco.
Never.
It was like being down front at a Nine Inch Nails show.
Seriously.
Sardines packed in a tin. And at every stop for the first half-hour of the trip (which takes about forty-five minutes total) no one got off the train while more people crowded on.
Many people weren't able to hold handrails or grips, so they just swayed en mass with the curves and tilts of the train. Periodically, as one of the people on the outside with access to something to hold, I caught the brunt of the weight of twenty or so people. Thank god I'm a scrapper is all I have to say.
Despite this tension and discomfort, I really did find the experience fascinating. Thousands, upon thousands, of people make this type of trip every day. And they've developed means of dealing with it.
First and foremost, the Japanese sense of face is ever present. Every person on that train is a statue. They don't stare at anyone else. They don't talk. They don't fidget or fuss or try to find that pesky piece of chewing gum that they know they put in their purse this morning.
Secondly, and most intriguing to me, is the fact that almost every single commuter in Tokyo has an mp3 player. Everyone listens to music on the commute, young and old alike. I saw an elderly man, who had been given a seat by a younger businessman, tapping out a funky beat on his leg as he listened to something on an iPod yesterday. (Although, of course, his facial expression never gave any indication of his ongoing groove.)
People make their own space here, and other people in close proximity to them have the utmost respect for and sense of that space. I defy you to try that in Paris, or anywhere else for that matter. And though I don't intend to make a habit of traveling during peak rush hour. It's certainly something that can be lived through and appreciated - at least on an analytical level.
EDIT: Now that I reflect, it seems to me that I have been on a train once that was nearly as crowded as this - in Paris, during the millennium celebration. Now that was a fucked up donkey show.
