A routine errand run, including a trip to the dry cleaners (who charge way too much) turned into a lesson in how to maneuver the streets of Tokyo. More apt, it's the sidewalks that cause me grief, and challenge my skills on when to move out of the way, and when to stand my ground.
If we accept as fact space is a luxury in Japan, and thus sidewalks and streets are narrow, and then if we further accept as fact bicycles in Japan are ridden on sidewalks AND roads, then these facts allow those of us who do not ride bicycles to wonder (out loud at times) why it is pedestrians are the ones who have to duck and cover. Case in point.
I turn the corner out of my apartment, and in a matter of ten seconds experience the following:
"Stop, stop." A mother standing to my left says...to whom? Me? I look at her short, bobbed hair, notice she's a bit plump, admire her large, black-rimmed glasses (very Jackie O), and wonder what to do but not long enough to stop.
A boy, maybe two, comes out from behind a bicycle to my right. A bicycle comes from behind me, also on my right, and hits the boy, knocking him down. The front tire catches the boy between the legs, and pushes the boy forward a meter or so with the boy face down.
I freeze. In hindsight, my next reaction made me realize I am very much a girl. My first concern was for his face. Assuming he dragged his face onto the pavement for the entire time he was being pushed forward by that bicycle tire, I expect scrapes and blood when the mother picks him up. The boy is screaming, of course. The mother rushes forward, while the man jumps off his bike, apologizing and asking if he should call an ambulance. I'm still frozen.
The mother picks up her son, who has not a scratch on his face. It's at this moment I realize the whole "I'm such a girl" thing. The tire caught the boy between his legs. Men probably cringed as they read that sentence earlier. For me, the tire-in-the-groin thing didn't register until I saw his face was clean except for tears. First things first??
I notice I'm still frozen. My hand to my mouth, I haven't moved. The "it happened so fast" phrase I often hear in police dramas goes through my head.
On any given day, on any given sidewalk, pedestrians and bicyclists battle for turf. The bikes weave in and out of people, I guess assuming the pedestrians have the right of way? I don't know these rules. I tend to stand still when I see a bicycle coming my way, as I can't predict well enough who's doing what, and who's supposed to do what. No one else seems to have this problem. I also often wonder why bicycles get to ride on sidewalks and the roads. Neither is safe for them. The sidewalk makes it less safe for those of us who walk, and those who ride. Surely there's a better way. Isn't there?
I suppose I should say I'm not particularly fond of these cyclists. Between riding with one hand carrying an umbrella, and the other on the handle I'm just not sure they're as careful as I'd like them to be. Even more so, when they're talking on their cell phone.
In several months perhaps, I too will not be nearly as chicken and will assert my rights as a pedestrian. Until that day comes, I think of that two year old boy every time I leave the house and wonder, "who's next?"
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