The Lobster Dance

Coming home from school
Along the row of flowers,
a deep gaijin trap.

About two weeks ago, I gave in and bought a bike. When I’m not doing more typical Specialist duties at city hall, my time is divided between three local schools, where I teach English and (on occasion) American culture. Thus, my life during the work week turns into a traveling salesman problem: if I have a late meeting with teachers one day, can I go from the elementary to the city hall before my workday is technically up? Can I also get to the bank and the drycleaners after work without taking all night?

So I decided I’d take the plunge and buy a cheap bicycle.

This probably isn’t a big deal to most of you who live/d in Japan before, but this was a little scary for me. I didn’t bike to grad school because there were two scary hills between me and town (and don’t get me started on the snow). Even though I saw bikers going down the hills everyday, the fact that busses would pass them and cars would just not pay attention made me anxious. Plus, I kind of suck at riding bikes—it’s hard for me to keep my balance while making the necessary hand gestures to indicate all the turns I had to make on the way. So I took the bus and walked all over the place, and that generally worked well.

Here, however, time is of the essence, and even though I’ll have to walk in the rain or drive in particularly bad weather, a bike is great for getting around town. It’s easier to navigate the ridiculously narrow roads of the shopping “district”; it’s faster to get between work and school and home; and I get some exercise when I use it in place of my car.

My first fear—that I suck at biking—was allayed because I actually find that my Japanese bike is easier to use. It stays upright better, probably because it’s a “fashion bicycle” meant for commuters instead of a bike meant for cyclists. Even the kickstand is easier to use—it’s a bar that comes down under the bike’s back wheel on both sides. There’s a back-wheel lock and key built in, as well as a light, a bell, and a basket. As further proof that it’s an office-lady bike, there’s a built in skirt guard. Seriously. My only complaint is that it’s a one-speed bike, and so getting up hills is a little interesting.

My second big fear about biking is getting hit by a car or a bus, and so far, I haven’t felt like my life has been in danger. My prefecture is known for its terrible drivers, but the drivers do share the road. Bicyclists are common in Japan, even in the countryside, and if you have to ride the bike in the road (as opposed to the bike lane or the sidewalk), yeah, you’ll get passed, but it doesn’t feel scary. Drivers are used to passing bikes and old farmers with push-carts and random cars parked in front of the bank even though the free lot is RIGHT THERE.

However, the fact that only courier-service workers wear helmets while biking bothers me. Obviously, drivers are used to sharing the road, and that makes helmet-wearing somewhat less of an issue than it is in the States, but that doesn’t make me feel better. I mean, I could get hit by a car or I could fall into a rain gutter, or, as we foreigners like to call them, “gaijin traps.” (Side note: it’s a good idea to learn the real word for this, 下水 or 溝 or some other variant, because if you tell your Japanese friend to 「Gaijin trap　気をつけて」 [“Watch out for the gaijin trap”] while backing up on a narrow mountain road—and you will do this at some point if you live in the country, trust me—you will get some very strange looks.) I almost ended up in a rain gutter during a night-ride to my dance group. The side streets and “alleys” are not well lit, and so, if I have to ride at night, I stick to the main roads with the lights from the conbini and the pachinko parlors to guide my way.

Over all, biking has been a pretty good experience so far. For one, my students think it’s super cool when I roll up to school. Safety-wise, it seems to be a matter of really paying attention to the surroundings. I try to ride in low-traffic areas without blind curves or uncovered rain gutters. Because of this, I’ve gotten to see things I would miss in a car. I don’t usually ride at night, but last night I biked to my dance group, and the waning moon and Venus were unusually clear. There weren’t as many clouds in the night sky, and I saw the stars for the first time here. The constellations seemed unfamiliar since I’m at a different parallel than I usually am in the States, but it was a completely 気持ち！moment to see the sky not drowned out by my apartment complex’s lights or under a cloud cover.

Early autumn night
Oh, Moon, I pray, please guide me
far from that gutter.