The kindness of strangers and the onset of Schizophrenia

Today was a good day. Not for any big reason, there were a few small ones (I found some great stuff while shopping) but mostly it was that my head was back in the right place after a few days of feeling like I was slipping out of my honeymoon phase with Japan.

The slipping started last weekend when I hit a wall with my inability to communicate. I was on the train in central Tokyo heading for Alex's home town and trying to activate my cell phone. Alex had been in Japan all of 12 hours when we were scheduled to meet up, so he didn't have a cell phone yet and was going to be away from home when I got into town. The plan was for him to call my cell phone around 11:30 and I would tell him which train I was on, and which station I was headed for (there are several options). I bought my cell phone the night before, for specifically this purpose and others just like it. I was informed that it would not be connected until 11am the next morning, and given instructions on how to call and activate my phone at that time. I had the instructions in English, and a half hour to get it working before Alex called. Simple, right? Wrong.

Just after 11:00 and well on my way to Shinjiku, I dialed the number, followed the instructions, and heard a recorded reply in Japanese that ended with 'ma sen'. That's not good. 'Ma sen' is what is added to the end of a sentence to make the whole thing negative, as in "your phone is NOT activated", or "that is NOT the correct code", something along those lines. The problem is, 'ma sen' is the only part of that sentence I could understand. I tried it several times and listened again to the recording, straining to hear over the noise of the train and wishing I could ask the automated chick to speak slowly. After 5 attempts, all I got was 'ma sen'.

I was at an impasse; I was pressed for time and I needed this phone to work in order to find my friend in a suburban city of 600,000 people. For the first time since I landed, I felt like crying. I looked around the train hoping to see a fellow foreigner with a friendly face, ideally reading a Japanese newspaper, as to imply bi-fluent status. I saw only Japanese faces, and as it's impolite to make eye contact on the train, no one looked back to see my wide eyed lost little girl expression that has come in so handy here.

I took a deep breath and turned to the teenage girl sitting next to me. I said (in Japanese) "Excuse me, I don't understand this." (holding up my phone and the activation instructions) "Can you help me please?" She looked at the Japanese instructions and started to speak in Japanese while gesturing to the booklet. She was probably saying, "Well, you call this number and then type in your code." I started to answer and said "Yes, but I don't understand...," and here's where my vocabulary ran out. I searched my mind's index for how to say "what the voice is saying after I enter the code", or "what I am doing wrong", or "how to get this piece of shit phone to work in the next 5 minutes or less" but I didn't know how to say any of those things. (Still don't).

Instead I just offered her the book and the phone and said "you please". She looked shocked and pointed to her nose which is the Japanese way of saying "me?" I nodded furiously and bowed a couple of times in my seat. She understood apparently, and followed the instructions while listening to the prompts herself. After a minute or two she handed the phone back to me, smiled, and said "OK!" Alex called three minutes later.

So, to the Japanese teen dressed in a school uniform and cramming for a test on the Yamanote line between Ueno and Shinjiku: Thank you. You saved me that day, both from spending a day searching for my friend in a strange city and from an embarrassing crying spell on a crowded train. I would have told you as much, but I don't know how to say that either.

Unfortunately, that feeling of helplessness and isolation lasted longer than the cell phone dilemma. It reared its ugly head again a few days later at the travel agency when after an hour I walked out with a $400 train ticket, a massive tension headache, and a feeling that my travel plans may not have been clearly communicated at all.

Since then I have been squashing a rising doubt in the back of my head. I was walking to work the other day thinking about where I could find a pair of river shoes that would fit me for my upcoming rafting trip, when it surfaced, loud and clear. "What the hell am I doing here?" The voice asking paid no attention to my current train of thought and sounded pissed. It seemingly came out of nowhere, and just as surprisingly I answered it, quickly and without thinking. "Shut up, I'm on an adventure." That was it. Hmmm, I just had a subconscious argument with myself while wide awake. That's a first. I pondered whether I should be concerned for my mental health, but my justification is this: It was a completely valid question, and a pretty solid answer at that, so I'll let it slide. If they (I mean I!) start arguing over sports scores however, I'm going straight to the Tokyo Counseling Clinic I see advertised everywhere. At the bottom of their posters it says "English accepted". Oh good, how about Visa?