Kansai Training

Flashback January 16, 2006. Destination: Kobe City, Kansai Region. My first unaccompanied train ride since I arrived in Japan on September 2005. A slow learner’s pace by anyone’s standard. Travelling via Kansai’s local train systems is an absolute thrill to the novice, like myself. For beginners though, it could be a bewilderment.

My wife and I on a train to Kyoto. Photo taken by my son, Erigo.

If one’s only experience riding trains is the LRT or the MRT of Metro Manila, Kansai’s train systems can be considered an expert’s course. The Kansai folks are indeed experts having lived all their lives riding trains. Ask them for advice on how to get to a particular place, they’ll first ask what time you need to arrive at your final destination. A few minutes on the internet, and they’ll provide you with a detailed route plan containing loading points, station changes, train classes and types, and arrival and departure times for each train you need to take. They will not quote fare costs though, since train fare never seems to be an issue to the Japanese, but is initially discouraging to the uninitiated pinoy.

You get to learn much about Japanese behavior by riding trains. The Japanese don’t readily smile at strangers. If you happen to catch their eyes, they’ll politely give you a slight bow with their heads and look away. It is considered improper to watch people in trains. Unlike pinoys who find attention flattering, the average Japanese ‘trainee’ finds it discomfiting. I’ve heard that’s one reason Kansai’s trains are bursting with posters and banners: so commuters could stare at them in lieu of their cabmates. I’m certain train advertisers are happy with the situation.

While six people can fit in a Manila jeepney seat built for five, Kansai train seats that can clearly accommodate seven will invariably have only six takers. Here, you get a hint on the greater extent of Japanese personal space. When only one slot is left and there are several passengers nearby, it is amusing to see them tense up and ignore that square foot of comfort, until one of them hesitatingly makes a claim after which they all seem relieved.

If you’re familiar with your computer’s sleep mode, I suspect the concept was developed from observing Kansai train commuters. A few minutes after getting on and sitting comfortably, many riders automatically go into sleep mode. Oblivious to everything around them, they miraculously wake up a few seconds before they arrive at their stations. Once, I observed one go into sleep mode standing up, hands at the side, balancing himself through rapid accelerations and brakes. Impressive.

During rush hour, the packed train slides to halt. There is a deathly silence. The doors slide open with a loud hiss, and they’re off! Everybody races towards the exits, the escalators, their next platform destinations. Mini-skirted young women in stiletto shoes not conceding to athletic young men in sneakers. The business suits moving just as swiftly as the lovely dresses.

One needs to understand that every moment counts in this race. A few seconds late to the next platform could mean being left behind by the next train. Then the domino effect kicks in, with the loser arriving late at all required stations thereafter.

I’d really like to go on, but my train is about to reach my stop and I hear the announcements in Japanese on the public address system. My comprehension of Nihonggo may not be top notch, but the voice seems to be saying: “On your marks. Get set….�?