I was in the subway system in Fukuoka today waiting for the train with a few other people. Apart from gentle classical music playing through the PA system peace was all around me. Suddenly I couldn’t believe my eyes – there along the platform was a piece of litter – a yellow sweet wrapper. I was just about to get my phone out to take a picture of it as evidence that litter does in fact exist in Japan when something unbelievable happened.
It appeared that I was not the only one to spot the small piece of paper lying discarded on the platform. A man totally unconnected to the piece of litter walked up to it, bent down, picked it up and put it in his plastic carter bag. Perhaps he had seen me reach for my phone and wanted to preserve his country’s reputation.
Whatever the reason I was impressed with the sense of civic pride he had shown. It reminded me of my old but deceased friend Hal Lister who used to go onto the Lakeland fells where he lived carrying a bin bag to collect as much rubbish as he could find. He often filled the bag.
Tidy though it is in Fukuoka I am finding it a little dull. At least you can laugh at the Chinese. You spend a lot of time despairing over the way they go about. You get fed up of the noise the pollution the spitting the pushing and the inconsiderate nature.
None of those accusations can be levelled at the Japanese but it means they seem a little boring. It’s all a bit too perfect. What are they hiding? I feel like throwing some litter down or pushing someone out of the way to get a seat on the train or shouting on my mobile phone in a quiet restaurant.
I need to be with some crazy weird unpredictable people blasting car horns and jumping red lights. I want that uncertainty which comes from never quite knowing if you’re going to survive a busy road crossing.
Nobody has even tried to steal anything from me here in Japan. No, I don’t think I could live here. It’s just not normal.
