Pushers

Just finished David Sedaris' book When you are Engulfed in Flames. If this were a review of the book I'd say "brilliant." Buy it. Read it. Enough said. But this isn't.

Engulfed ends with David and his boyfriend Hugh going to Japan for 3 months to help him quit smoking. His stories, especially his experiences on the trains in Japan, reminded me of something I hadn't thought of in years.

I remember standing on the platform at the Musashi Urawa Train station near my house waiting for the 7:35 AM train that took to Toda Station just 3 blocks from the high school where I taught. From the platform on winter days Mt. Fuji could be seen in the distance. Normally you can't see anything in the summer haze but some sort of whether phenomenon must make the air clear in winter.

Every morning just before my commuter train arrived a Shinkansen (Bullet Train) would rush by on the way to Tokyo. The train would slow down for the station but not enough to keep the wave of cold air it was pushing from hitting me like a sock full of nickels. Friends who grew up in colder climates advised me to "layer" my clothes for best effect. Let me say that no amount of layered clothes could keep anyone warm as the Kita Kaza (the eastern wind from Siberia) hits you.

Lucky for me, you never wait long for a train in Japan and when mine arrives every car is packed full with people. As the doors open, passengers make way for those exiting and a blast of hot sick is all you can smell. Right then I know what every Japanese man, woman and child has had for breakfast. Fish and rice! That combined with BO and a few people sweating off the previous night of karaoke and beer is one of the few things that will make a man appreciate a stuffy nose from a cold.

When I first arrived in Japan I'd file into the train at the front of the line thinking I could find some space in the aisle between the rows of seats. I learned the hard way that those in the aisle are packed in the tightest and there seemed to be less air in the middle of the train. Anyone suffering from claustrophobia wouldn't survive a morning commuter train and the only saving grace for me was that I was taller than most of those around me which meant my head was near the ceiling and fresh air.

Packed in like that there were always pervs who would try to grope the young women but I can say that I never saw anything like that. Speaking for myself I had no room to move so not sure how that could be accomplished.

So the middle spot was no good as it made it to tough to get out at my stop and there was no room. I came up with a new plan, something that would put me nearer the door. What I realized was that the best place to be when the whistle blew was at the end of the line. That way when the last whistle blew I could turn with my back to the train and push into the people. Using my legs and the weight of my body I made a space on the train before the doors closed. And I had a team to back me up. Japan Railways employs skilled Pushers to help push in anyone not entirely on the train before the doors close. I generally didn't need much help but it was appreciated.

On several occasions I have seen the doors close on people half way in and half way out of the train which is when the Pushers leap into action. It can sometimes take three or four Pushers to close an especially full train but the train does not leave the station until every door is closed.

Once inside the train the doors close and contorted bodies mashed against each other. I now realize that the 8 or 9 layers of clothing I have on to keep out the cold also do well to keep in the warmth. I'm not sweating and adding to the smell but that's OK, my school is only two stops away and exactly 21 minutes after getting on the train I can now get out.

I don't know that I would have gone there to cure myself of smoking but it did cure me of ever wanting to be the victim of mass transit ever again. Leave me to my car.