QUAKY

Yesterday afternoon in the office a couple of the more sensitive ladies gave a little scream and said there'd been an earthquake but I hadn't felt a thing. Later in commuter zombie mode I went up and up and up to the always long lines on my always crowded Osaka train platform and THERE WAS NO ONE THERE.

I think Kafka must have had such an experience early in life. So after a moment or two of professional nonplusment I went down and down and down and over and up and up and up to the other Kyoto-direction platform and EVERYONE WAS THERE, being showered with a lengthy announcement explaining at some length that "mmbblllbl wmmmblwlw lbbw mnngrflmpo neflwm bmwawa," then a train came in and I was flotsamed onto it as a mere twig in the powerful torrent of crowd, still wondering what was going on.

We all became thinner from the pressure of each other, with hordes pushing yet at the doorways, wanting sooo much to be on this particular train, it could be the last one to Kyoto for some time, until the doors at last closed with the watery sigh of mercy. As the train rocked along toward Kyoto, letting on more and more people as we went, in a magnanimous gesture of railroading goodwill that was at no expense to the railroad, everyone was becoming streadily narrower as bones crunched and sweat oozed and breath left bodies, there were several announcements from the ceiling to the effect that "mmbblllblearthquakewmmmblwlwlbbwmnn flwmbmwawa," which seemed to be an apology for the delays and crowding resulting from the earthquake, which had caused the management to close all the windows and turn the heat up.

When at last we all got to Kyoto Station, each of us much lighter, thinner and taller, there were ten times as many people waiting on the platform as there are in Japan into which we all got off the train, and a big sign said nothing more specific than that all train runs were temporarily suspended, so to clarify things they made the emergency announcement that "mmbbl llblstron gearthq uakew mmmblwl wlbb wmnn flwmbmwawa," causing everyone to mill around to the extent possible while talking on their cell phones, those without cell phones, like me, wandering off to look for pay phones with less than a hundred people in line.

I did the same and eventually called home, where Echo said in response to my question, "Earthquake, what earthquake, was there-- Oh yeah, this afternoon, while I was in the supermarket," so I told her there were no trains for I knew not how long, but that "mmbblllblwmmmblwlwlbbwmnnflwmbmwawa," so I'd see her later, then I went back up to the platform and joined the mob and it was announced that "mmbblllblwmmmblwlwlbbwmnnflwmbmwawa," just as a silver train pulled in and I was swept on, and we were off in what I hoped was the right direction, so at some point I cut off someone's air supply to look out the window, when I saw with almost fanatic gratitude that we would soon arrive at my home station, but even as I watched the train went on and on and on, past my home station, it wasn't stopping, I had boarded the dreaded train that goes all the way, and I vowed to get off at the first stop, which I did, and the train doors closed and the train pulled away on its way to the very end and I looked around me at track 1 in the unknown station in the middle of nowhere with NO ONE THERE BUT ME and dark countryside all around and I got that same old Kafka feeling again with a touch of Night of the Living Dead, so I went down the stairs into the long empty corridors where a sign said indisputably, arrows and all, no qualifications, "Trains to Kyoto this way" said arrows pointing to track 4 so I went accordingly up the stairs to track 4, where soon another person came up the stairs and looked at the train schedule posted there. The next train would be at 7:32, about ten minutes. Lucky me.

The other person looked at a growing crowd of people waiting on track 1 and went down the stairs and came up beside track 1, where I had been. Why? Surely that person had wanted to go in the Kyoto direction? How could a Japanese make such a mistake? I had no idea. Now I was the only one at track 4. More folks began to gather beside track 1. Not long after that a silver train from Kyoto pulled in on track 1, last stop, everyone on it got off and disappeared, no one had made the mistake I had. Just then there was an announcement: "mmbblllblwmmmblwlwlbbwmnn flwmbmwawa," I guess it must be a tape they send out to all stations for emergencies like this, and then came a 'live' announcement explaining at last that "mmbbear thquake lllblwmmmbl flwmb mwa wadelays," which I interpreted to mean that the train schedule I had read was temporarily invalid, at which point the 7:32 train to Kyoto, slightly delayed, pulled away in the form of the silver train on track 1, leaving the other platform empty and convincing me that the Japanese have some kind of special thing in their brains that tells them which train to take no matter where they are, even if there's a temporary change in schedules due to an earthquake.



I ran down and down and over and up and up there. Went up to the driver. Asked if this train was going toward Kyoto. He looked at his watch and said "Yep, but you can probably get an earlier train over on track 4." So I went back down and down and over and up and up to track 4 and waited for the train I knew would come one day; how does one really know such things, whence oh whence comes hope, to a stranger in a strange land? How does one dream in a foreign language? Which chopstick should I use? Does this go from right to left? Is it cold or is it me? Is there a train to where I'm going? Many are the Kafkaesque questions that race chaotically through the fevered mind alone on the empty platform late at night in wait for a phantom train as the entire country, indeed the world, rolls silently on into darkness...