The bullet train has begun to fill with passengers. These people are more
upscale than the country folk I had seen on the trains leaving Akihabra station for
the towns north of Tokyo. They are more like the travellers one would encounter
at airports and see on jets. The air conditioning hisses.

I wonder what will happen in Kyoto. I’ll have to find a place to stay while I
look for a temple that will take me. Maybe I’ll find a youth hostel. Will I have to
sit in the lotus position for weeks or months outside a temple’s gates and endure
the monks’ beatings, like men of legend in D.T. Suzuki’s books? Something will
happen. Will I experience enlightenment? Many never do, they say... It won’t be
easy.

Everyone has taken a seat and the bullet train has begun to roll. It
accelerates quickly with a whoosh. Scenery glides by at an ever-increasing pace.
Faster and faster. I’m actually pushed backward into my seat. This is certainly
different from other trains. There is no clickety-clack; they must have welded the
rails. This is even quieter and smoother than the Metro in Paris and that is quiet
because it rides on rubber wheels,not steel. These Japanese wheels are steel and
yet they are quiet. Clever people the Japanese.

And honest:

While staying with Randy and Yoshimi, I had taken the train from Kasama
to Akihabra station in Tokyo and back to Kasama several times. I had travelled
around Tokyo by underground subway, newer than London’s, bigger than
Toronto’s. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack. I had always been well treated by the
Japanese. There is an important reason for this, I think:property. One time after
purchasing a gift for Randy and Yoshimi when in Tokyo, I had placed it beside
myself on the bench on the platform as I waited for my train.

I was halfway home before I realized I’d left my gift behind. Arriving, I was
still furious with myself. “What wrong, Morley-san?” Yoshimi had inquired. I
told them about my stupidity. “That’s okay, Morley-san,” said Randy. “You’re
going back in a few days, or next week. When you arrive, just go to the little kiosk
at the end of the platform. They’ll have your package. If they don’t, it’ll still be
where you left it on the bench.”

“Yeh sure it will,” I groaned. “A million people go through Akihabra every
day!”

“It’ll be there; don’t worry about it,” Randy soothed. “When people go
shopping in the Ginza, they often leave things they have already purchased on the

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Japanby Morley Evans

November 21, 2000