The Ad in the Train

Tokyo subways are covered with ads.  Look up and one will see hanging from the ceiling on colorful sheets of paper the latest articles touting the truth through propaganda, cheap journalism, paparazzi photos, and tabloid gossip.  Look on the walls of the trains and one will see everything from beer to insurance to waxing services to festivals highlighted for sale and to inform.  I don't mind these much.  I find it a good way to keep up with pop culture in Japan, trends, and whatever passes for news.  Most days my eyes glaze over what's on the walls of steel tubes running underground in Tokyo.  Today, well today I stand in awe of people who connect dots not meant to be connected.

I swear I am not making this up.  I feel that must be stated front and center because while I pride myself in an active and adventurous imagination, today I must concede.  Evidently, I would have failed miserably had I gone into marketing or advertising.  This ad ... this ad takes the cake. 

Above the automatic doors of each train car are two screens.  The one on the right shows the name of the station, how far we are from the next several stations, and whether the doors on the left or right will open.  This screen is informative.  It pays to read this if sleeping, or reading a smart phone display or a book is how one usually passes the time on a train.  Stops are easy to miss. 

The other screen displays more ads.  Today on the way to my lunch meeting I glanced up and didn't pay attention to the girl selling cosmetics while she sat at a white desk.  I didn't pay attention to which coffee brand was introducing a new flavor.  What caught my attention was the two-part question, one line in red and another in blue under the heading, "If a foreigner stopped you on the street and asked for directions in their language what would you do?"  The red option was, A: say you don't understand them and walk away.  The blue option was, B: show them using gestures and explain the best you could.

Flash to a screen shot of a man with the red answer.  I can't hear him but the line he's evidently giving the mic is, "I'd walk away if I don't understand them."  The woman with the blue answer is indeed gesturing wildly, and while I still can't hear the answer, the line reads, "Surely if I point enough they'll understand."

Then comes the bar graph.  Ask 100 Japanese the same question and how many offer the red "I'd walk away" answer and how many would give the blue "I'd gesture" answer.  I hold my breath.  I prepare.  This can't be good.

And, I'm wrong.  Of the 100, 81 would gesture and try to help while 19 would shake their heads and walk away.  Nice job, 81 people.  That's kind of you to try.  Thanks.

I assume this is the end.  I am wrong again.  (Surely, a record.  Twice in one day?)  This is the part I can't make up. 

So far this is not an advertisement but a public service announcement about helpful Japanese assisting lost foreigners.  We all feel good watching this, the Japanese satisfied with their kindness and foreigners touched by the ever-polite Japanese sense of hospitality.  Why not end it there?  This is where my imagination fails me.  I would have left it at a feel-good group hug message.  Sell something after this?  Why?  Why ruin a good thing?

What comes next stumped me.  The fuzzy warm feeling story turns into a psychological analysis of the red-answer people and blue-answer people.  A perky young woman shows up on the screen and asks, "If the people answering in red were a type of ramen, what flavor would they be?"

What?  Ramen?  We're determining personality types now by associating them with ramen?  Why?

She asks the same question about the blue-answers.  What flavor would they be?

For the record, the red people were soy sauce flavored, and the blue people were salt flavored.  Soy sauce because they don't like change (I'm quoting here) and they don't take risks, and salt for the blue answers because they like adventure and will try new things.  I am not making this up. 

There's more.  (Because, why end here?) 

Now comes the advertisement.  Enter a new app developed by one of Japan's largest telephone companies offering instant verbal translation.  Want to ask, "How do I get to the train station?"  There's an app for that.  Download it and speak your question into your phone and up pops both the written and spoken phrase you are to ask.  It also translates the answer back to you, presumably, if the person speaks their answer into your phone.

So, there you have it.  Helpful Japanese get classified into a ramen flavor to sell an app. 

I feel some how entitled to take a bow after sharing this with you.  You're welcome.