No one likes being stopped by the police for running a stop sign or failing to wear a seat belt. That’s true everywhere. Such interactions with enforcement officers mean a ticket and a fine. At the same time, if you were in violation of the law, regardless of how minor the infraction, they’re just doing their job, there’s no reason to resent, hate, or fear them.
The other side of the coin is that on rare occasions, calling the police yourself is the best option in handling a situation. It’s certainly quite helpful to be able to request professional assistance. A stranger is wandering around in your back yard. A stray dog is foaming at the mouth, leaping in the air, apparently infected with rabies. A person has just crashed their car into a tree and is slumped over unconscious behind the wheel. You do what you have to do and a trained, concerned, professional police officer is an obvious place to start when dealing with many emergencies.
In over twelve years, I’ve only had three interactions with the police here in Japan. All were fine, not in the least unpleasant.
One time early in the evening, I was driving down the main street here in town, came to a stop at a T-intersection, and two officers stepped up to my car. They didn’t even ask me for identification. They simply wanted to know if I’d been drinking. I replied, “I don’t drink.” They thanked me and I went on my way.
Another occasion I wrote about in the article Life In Japan: Koban. That was a very intense situation with the police helping a disoriented lady I found laying on the side of the road, who miraculously hadn’t been run over before I walked her to the police station. The officer was extremely polite and highly professional, asked questions and took a lot of notes for his report on the incident. He got the lady safely back to the retirement facility she had wandered away from.
One other time, I was riding my bike and an officer on a motorbike stopped me, looked at the registration tag on my bike to make sure it was current and my bike not on their stolen list. The whole thing took about 30 seconds and I went on my way. Yes, they patrol on motorbikes. And yes, they are meticulous about stopping bicycle theft.
Which brings me to the actual theme of this particular article, the vast difference between policing here and what appears to be going on back in the U.S.
Whereas the police in America are frequently viewed as adversaries, not to be trusted, to be avoided, sought as a last resort in many communities — especially communities of color — here in Japan, they are still viewed as trusted public servants. Being a police officer is a highly-regarded, admired profession. As I was brought up to believe way back in the 20th Century, a police officer is a member of the community and your friend.
The article posted at the top is about a visit by police officers to a local school to show the students a typical police van. The kids were extremely excited and fascinated by the way it was outfitted. And the officers ended up giving the students a ride in the vehicle. That’s the way the police like to be seen and regarded here, by citizens of all ages.
My wife’s daughter, Izumi, teaches kindergarten here locally. The police occasionally are invited by her school to meet with the kids, who regard their visits as a special occasion. Last time they came by, they worked in the school’s garden with the children, harvesting sweet potatoes. Students and police then took the fresh potatoes inside, baked them and had lunch together.
Perhaps nothing sums up how unique the police are here than this story. Here we meet Yemon, a cat which has been recruited to work in Yoro Station in Miyazu, Kyoto.
I have a feeling that being a “cat burglar” is not a very good idea in this police precinct with Yemon on the job.
No, this is not an electron microscope image of a coronavirus.
In fact, it is the best dessert pastry I’ve had in my entire life!
Not that it’s an easy decision here in Japan. The dessert pastries are absolutely incredible! Part of what makes them so delicious is that they’re not as sweet as what I’m used to in the U.S. and other Western countries. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you a little about the whole sweet treat scene here.
Japanese dessert dispensaries are specialized. Yes, we have bakeries. But bakeries only sell bread, rolls, croissants and other dough-based pastries, e.g. what we might call Danishes.
Then there are cake shops. Guess what they sell! And chocolate shops. And there are a very popular staple here in Japan, DUMPLING SHOPS.
Mind you, we have meat and vegetable dumplings which are served as main course items. They are called gyoza, are pan-fried, and are awesomely delicious in their own right. These are served in restaurants and found in great abundance in grocery stores. Some are made industrially or frozen, the really good ones are made fresh.
The dessert dumplings are a whole different genre. They come in various configurations. All of them are filled or covered with some amazing confectionary concoction or fruit. Here are some examples: These are mochi and dango dessert dumplings.
This is the perfect segue to what I just ate because in many ways, it’s so representative of the creativity I’ve experienced. This heavenly treat purchased at a cake shop was actually a hybrid, the exterior not frosting but dumpling!
First, let me make it clear. My comments are not meant to denigrate American pastries. Hey! Lots of sugar and butter! How could anyone complain?
The big difference is Japanese pastries are so DELICIOUSLY COMPLEX. Look at these photos of the inside of my globular sugar bomb.
Yes, the outside of my “cake” was dumpling dough. Oh my, it was so delicate and smooth to the tongue, it literally melted in my mouth. But that was just the deceptively simple sheath inviting the taste buds into a world of wonders.
Honestly, I can’t identify all of the components that went into this masterpiece. Every forkful I took, revealed more delectable surprises. Strawberries, strawberry syrup, whip cream, vanilla chiffon, an amazing cookie crust on the bottom, garnished with caramelized sugar, and something deliciously green, visible in the last photo.
Mind you, even though the final result is sweet tasting, none of these elements individually were especially sweet. Obviously they contained sugar but not at levels that obscured the distinct and delicate flavors of each component. Which now is my criticism of the “cake” and other desserts we eat in America. They are laced with so much sugar! About as subtle as an atomic bomb. Granted, cake in the U.S. is spectacular. As is watching people there go into traction or collapse in a twitching heap from sugar shock.
Even so, there’s really no point in trying to identify which is better. They are different approaches to pleasing the palate. Japanese pastries are like a quiet walk on a moonlit beach. American pastries are like a D-Day landing on that same beach accompanied by naval artillery and air power.
Each has its supporters. Each has its place in the world. Each has its cultural roots.
Of course, there are health implications. The obesity rate in Japan among adults is 4.3%. In America it’s 36.2%.
Three days ago, an anonymous old man rode up on a bicycle to this school and two others in Nara-shi, the largest city in Nara Prefecture. This community is about 30 km (18 miles) directly east of Osaka.
He walked into each school, handed a white bag to a staff member. Inside each bag was 10 million yen — approximately $94,000 — and a note which said: Please use it for children.
The City Board of Education responded: 「いただいた厚意を大切にし、各学校の教育活動に活用させていただきます」
Translation: “We will cherish the kindness we received and utilize it in the educational activities of each school.”
I would love to think that this sort of thing happens in communities all over the world.
Whether that’s true or not, I feel very fortunate living in a country where it does happen.
In fact, this story sounds strikingly similar to something that happened June of last year in this same city, when a man fitting this gentleman’s description went to City Hall and gave the staff a bag also containing 30 million yen, a contribution for three specific causes. The city had recently made a public appeal for donations. In the bag were articles cut out of the newspaper identifying three areas he was donating the money for: support for the poor, improving the education system and the health system.
There’s a restroom I never noticed before behind this museum, the Aoyama Family Heritage Center.
Folks here in Japan will wonder about my obsession with public restrooms. They might suspect I had a traumatic potty training and it turned me into a toilet freak.
I plead innocent! Please understand, I just really appreciate the fact that having to take care of something so natural and normal is SO EASY here in Japan. Trust me when I say this — and my American readers will know exactly what I’m talking about — it’s not at all like that in the land of the stars-and-stripes. Half the time, if you can even find a restroom there, you have to buy something or sit down for a meal. A sign you’ll see way too often there reads . . .
Anyway, this particular article is not more evidence I’m in need of serious psychotherapy and/or multiple end-to-end Vipassana retreats in India. It’s merely an update to one of the chapters in my book, LIVE FROM JAPAN! Not surprisingly, that chapter is called ‘Public Restrooms’ and appears in the print version of the book on pages 108-109.
To get to the point, I found TWO MORE public restrooms right downtown, in addition to the eight I identified before.
And here is a map of our downtown area, including the businesses that serve both the local population and the tens of thousands of tourists who come here to enjoy the sights, feast on wild boar, buy soybeans, or participate in the festivals we host. This map will show you the availability of clean, well-maintained, publicly-accessible facilities for you-know-what.
I certainly am not suggesting that next time you hear nature’s call that you think: “Golly, I should go to Tambasasayama!” I’m not saying this is some main attraction. Frankly, this is not at all unusual anywhere in Japan. What it means is that if you come to town, this is not something you’ll even have to think about. Those of you in the U.S. who’ve tried to sneak by a concierge at a hotel or a maitre d’ at a restaurant, those of you who’ve surreptitiously gone around the back of a filling station and then found the rest room door locked, those of you driven by such desperation that you’ve slipped into an alley and secreted yourself behind a dumpster to seek relief, will appreciate how humane and decent it is that Japan takes such good care of people. It’s just one small way that this country shows its big heart.
Those of you who’ve been following my writing here know how enamored I am with Japan, how refreshingly different I find it, how Japan continues to this day to surprise me, how I often refer to my life here as “living in a fairy tale”.
Finally, my deluxe, full-color, large-format book about Japan, as viewed through my American expat eyes, is arriving February 14th (yes, that’s Valentine’s Day).
With over 450 color photos, it’s an expensive volume, coming in at $35.95 in print, normally $9.99 as an ebook.
BUT for the next two weeks, the ebook of LIVE FROM JAPAN! is available as a pre-order in every popular ebook format FOR ONLY . . .
$2.99!
I want everyone to have this book. It offers a side of Japan they will never get anywhere else, and unless they come here and stay with me for a few days, are unlikely to experience themselves as a tourist.
‘Lockdown’ is a prison term. When the inmates get unruly and there’s the threat of an insurrection, they “lock down” the facility, restricting movement and preventing collective violence against their benevolent jailers.
So, we are being told we have an “insurrection” being mounted against an orderly life and the greater good of the people of the world, by an invisible enemy — aka the coronavirus — which despite having a curious resemblance to the invisible terrorists which were lurking behind every tree after 9/11, now is the only matter worth being mentioned or discussed by our spectacle-friendly, melodrama-driven media and health-conscious government.
Well, I agree in part with that assessment. We are under violent attack by an invisible enemy — one which in fact is hiding in plain sight — and certainly does present an existential threat to the entire human race. In fact, this invisible threat is the one which spawned the coronavirus itself, the response to the coronavirus, the justifications for panic and fear of everything related to the coronavirus, is pushing a balls-to-the-wall vaccination campaign, and originally initiated and now enforces all of the lockdowns across the globe.
And I agree. Absolutely! The only way to deal with the dysfunction and chaos of our present circumstance is A THOROUGH, MASSIVE LOCKDOWN!
But here’s the problem. And it’s a VERY BIG PROBLEM!
Right now, the wrong people are being locked down. Innocent people who are not the problem, not even partially responsible for the problem, people who if anything would LOVE TO FIX THE PROBLEM, are being locked down. And the malicious, manipulative control freaks of the world who created the conditions for the outlandish, misdirected, cruel, oppressive lockdowns are not.
THAT’S what’s wrong with these current lockdowns.
We saw the evidence of this con from the start.
For the first time in history, instead of isolating the sick to protect the healthy, they LOCKED DOWN EVERYBODY. Statistically, nothing about this coronavirus business passes the smell test. As fudged and manipulated as the numbers are, we are not facing an epic world health crisis. Even so, typically when large numbers of individuals become sick, it’s the healthy people who keep things going, who keep society functioning, so that resources can be focused on keeping the sick alive and making them well again. This time, everything was shut down. Everyone was forced to stay home. Not only did this make normal functioning impossible, it compromised the health of the healthy, making them more vulnerable to possible illness, not just from the coronavirus but from other medical challenges. Moreover, heart patients, diabetics, people with high blood pressure, cancer, obesity, psychological issues, NO ONE COULD GET PROPER TREATMENT. Thousands have died. The horror and disgrace of this willful negligence gets little to no attention.
The whole approach to the “pandemic” has been so irrational, counterproductive, so opposite of established protocols and responses, there is only one conclusion. It was intentional, callous, arguably punitive and malicious. Those driving the response to the crisis — whatever it really is — had either lost their minds, or had and continue to have some extremely disruptive, oppressive plan. I personally think it’s entirely about money: short-range profits for pharmaceutical companies, long-range profits for those who now have everyone under their boot heels and can extract the last few drops of blood from us.
There’s no other conclusion that holds up to rational analysis. Those at the helm of this monstrous assault on the established structures of society and the just, orderly conduct of everyday life know exactly what toll this is taking. This is going as planned. The monopoly capitalists, the puppet masters of technological tyranny, the insatiable, arguably insane ruling elite are jumping for joy in their gated communities and virtual star chambers.
The inescapable conclusion is . . .
The people who should be locked down — and locked up — are the predatory capitalists, the greed-driven monomaniacal profit seekers who put their own enrichment and that of their elite class ahead of everyone else.
Those who would despoil the planet, pollute the air and water, drive species extinction, multiply wealth inequality, use racism as a weapon of social and political control, THEY should be locked down. They should be quarantined and not allowed to circulate among us, spreading the filth of their self-promoting, self-enriching, self-aggrandizing, amoral, predatory pathology.
Those who are restricting and eliminating what few freedoms we now have, who violate our privacy, who insinuate themselves into our homes and the sanctity of our marriages and family relationships, should be LOCKED DOWN. Those who would further isolate and marginalize good, decent people, should be isolated and immobilized before they entirely destroy the fabric of a functioning society.
Those who see everything as a commodity, who see human beings as only producers and consumers, who view every moment and opportunity in life as just another chance to extract more wealth and achieve more power, then use it to exploit and abuse the rest of us, THEY SHOULD BE LOCKED DOWN.
Make no mistake about it. We have a horrific disease spreading across the planet, a plague of unparalleled dimensions, a killer of unprecedented destructive power and lethality. It is a disease so dangerous to humans, so toxic to our families and communities, so in total opposition to the nurturing and growth of healthy individuals, so foul as to kill the human spirit and vanquish the spiritual and emotional lives of all sentient beings, we need to immediately take drastic and decisive action.
No energy should be spared. No action is too extreme. Hesitation when dealing with such a grisly threat is not an option. It may be too late already.
The lethal virus we are now facing is called GLOBAL NEOLIBERAL CAPITALISM!
We have no choice. There’s no longer a margin for error. Its viral super-spreaders MUST BE IDENTIFIED AND LOCKED DOWN. These psychopathic criminals are so aggressive, so relentless, so obsessed and possessed, so convinced of their right to inflict themselves on others, we have little choice in the matter. They must be rounded up and sequestered.
It will not do to “send them to their rooms”. They must be locked down in tomb-like, hermetically-sealed chambers, cut off from all communication with the world — their breath, their words, their world view, their fanatic sense of entitlement are all equally pathogenic — left alone with their mountains of accumulated wealth: stocks and bonds, spread sheets, jewelry, derivatives, diamonds, gold and other precious metals. They must be locked down in cocoons of lavish isolation to hoard and treasure all their worldly booty, to reflect and gloat on their affluence and importance, to relish how exhilarating it feels to deprive other less fortunate people — that would be “we the peons” — of even an hint of their splendid opulence.
Yes, lock them down, put and keep them and all their glitter out of sight. We don’t need to be reminded of their avarice, gluttony, selfishness, pride, arrogance, contempt. Bye-bye to all of it! Lock these predators down — DISAPPEAR them — so we can get on with our lives. So we can hug each other again and enjoy sunsets and watch our children grow and delight in a simple meal at a restaurant and visit our friends and listen to music together and gather to worship and dance and play tennis or join a book club. Put the monsters out of sight and out of memory so we can live our lives without having to endure such loathsome miscreants, or fear they are watching us with their condescension and contempt, sneering at us through the mirrored windows of their skyscrapers or from behind the tinted glass of their stretch limos.
LOCK THEM DOWN! . . . NOW!
LOCK DOWN those who prey on others for profit.
LOCK DOWN those who promote endless wars for profit.
LOCK DOWN those who promote endless lies and false narratives for profit.
LOCK DOWN those who make us sick, keep us sick, then exploit our incapacitation for profit.
LOCK DOWN those who incarcerate people of color for profit.
LOCK DOWN those who promote debt slavery for profit.
LOCK DOWN those who promote privatization of the public commons for profit.
LOCK DOWN those now accelerating wealth inequality to destroy the lives of middle and working class people.
LOCK DOWN those who use everyday people as cannon fodder to protect their portfolios, property, and privilege.
LOCK DOWN those who have silenced the voice of the people and destroyed democracy in America.
LOCK THEM DOWN, because at least for now, the alternative is too distasteful.
The alternative is termination.
There are sites in Nevada devoted to storing the toxic byproducts of nuclear fission. For example, Yucca Mountain was being prepared as a massive depository for life-threatening waste. It’s time to reinstate funding for this project and get it ready for a new form of toxic sludge. It’s huge, far from anything or anyone else, just waiting to be put to good use.
Perfect, I say!
The perpetrators of our oppression deserve their own truly “private space”.
We deserve to be free from their pathological obsessions and devious manipulations.
It’s practically the definition of a win-win proposition!
We should spare no expense nor any speed. Lock them down now! Let them take it all with them. Ship their yachts and private jets, their stores of wealth in every transportable form, send it all packing, dump it all in those spacious Yucca Mountain caves. After all, if this wonderful stuff is so important to the wealthy, who are we to deprive them of the pleasure of wandering through their piles of caviar, vintage wines, mounted animal heads, fine art treasures, tuxedos, evening gowns, pheasant-under-glass, diamond belt buckles, polo horses, and gold-plated sex toys?
LOCKDOWNS . . . YES!
But this time let’s get it right.
Quarantine the truly diseased and dangerous, those who are the real plague upon us.
Tondo Matsuri festivals are held all over Japan, the second weekend of the new year, at all levels. There are major festivals with thousands of people, as well as more modest local celebrations. The central feature of the Tondo Matsuri is a bonfire, much appreciated since it tends to be cold in January, thanks mostly to the sub-zero winds that blow our way from Siberia.
This year Tondo Matsuri was held on the same day as Coming of Age, a national holiday celebrating every person turning 20, a welcome to full adulthood. Thus most people had the day off from work, making attendance convenient. Of course, the coronavirus “crisis” is cautioning people across the globe against large gatherings, sneezing on one another, licking door handles and one another’s eating utensils, and the most notorious disease spreader of them all, French kissing.
My village of Noma here in Tambasasayama wasn’t daunted by the threat of viruses. We got together, and granted, our bonfire didn’t leap 20-30 meters into the sky, as is common practice the major festival sites, but we still managed some truly heartfelt camaraderie and warmed ourselves against the winter chill in splendid fashion. Our bonfire was next to Benten Shrine where many similar get-togethers take place.
Once the Tondo bonfire is going, there are two key rituals.
One is burning the decorations, talismans, rakes, arrows, amulets, wreaths, blessings, and other votive goods, from the previous year, to be replaced over the new year with new ones. Many of these are items bought from local shrines and temples to bring good fortune and health. They are tossed onto the fire. After they are incinerated, each family collects some of the ashes, which are then taken back home. These ashes are called shimenawa — しめ縄 — and are considered sources of good luck and positive developments for the coming year.
Very light paper banners, with sayings and wishes written in beautiful calligraphy, are thrown onto the fire as well. They instantly burst into flames, then are caught in the updraft of the bonfire, soaring heavenward as they turn to ash. This takes the messages they contain up up up, and makes them part of the invisible energy of the universe. While this probably is more just silly superstition than a serious spiritual exercise, it reminds me of the prayer wheels of Tibetan Buddhism, which in a parallel fashion send into the divine ether the thousands of prayers the wheels contain on scrolls hand-written by the monks, usually pleas for peace and harmony in the world.
The second ritual is cooking mochi — 餅 — by placing it near the fire. Mochi are rice cakes and there’s absolutely no equivalent to them in the West. When grilled, they are thick and gooey with a crispy exterior, and incredibly delicious, especially with sweet red bean soup or soy sauce.
Yes, the food is very unique here, for sure.
So . . . that was our Tondo Matsuri. There were no fireworks, parades, or 21-gun salutes. The Blue Angels aerial acrobatic team didn’t fly over. No sign of a marching band or baton twirling cheerleaders.
No, we didn’t have baked ham and mashed potatoes for our New Years celebration meal.
In fact, Masumi-san cooked for THREE DAYS, preparing absolutely amazing traditional Japanese foods for our feast.
Usually, we have a huge feast at Masumi’s mother’s house, with sisters, in-laws, cousins, grandchildren, aunts and uncles. But this year, there were only six of us for the annual feast, and it was held at our house. Still it was a phenomenal way to start this new year. Perfect company and excellent food. Yum!
Oh wow! Not only can you READ the worst book ever written, now you can LISTEN to the worst songs ever written to go along with the worst book ever written.
Standing on the shoulders of the great psychologists who laid the foundation for her revolutionary work, Dr. Joy was aggressively eclectic. She took Women Who Love Too Much to greater heights with her song “Men Who Love Too Much”. I’m Okay You’re Okay was rescued from sentimentality by her anthem “I’m Okay You’re the Pits”. By far Dr. Joy’s most popular song, “The Rut Less Traveled” was inspired by The Road Less Traveled.
Listen to the music and read the lyrics. And don’t say we didn’t warn you. These songs are infectious! You’ll be singing them in your sleep, then seeking shock therapy in the morning!
Until her untimely death in a freak accident at a lesbian orgy island resort in 2009, Dr. Joy Smothers revolutionized modern psychology!
Her songs, her books, her uncanny insights, her unique and powerful healing methods are as relevant today as ever.
It was the early 90s. The usual number of people were suffering from plunging self-esteem. For the past decade, the book shelves had been bursting at their pressboard seams with every conceivable fix.
Psychiatrists were booked up for months. Gurus were turning them away at the door. Lifestyle coaches were rolling in dough from workshops, book sales, self-help tapes, videos, tête-à-têtes, seminars.
High priests, low priests, monks, ministers, astrologers, palmists, psalmists, phrenologists, hypnotists, aura readers, astral pocket jockeys, harmonic wave surfers, all were the rock stars of a new age of enlightenment.
But the zaniest of all of the obvious signs that the world had gone completely mad and people would embrace just about anything or anyone in a desperate attempt to conjure up the NEW YOU, was the lady we will meet in this book. Unorthodox? How about Alice in Wonderland strange. Weird. Off the charts. Barking mad. Totally whack. We’re talking about … Dr. Joy Smothers, the folk singing psychologist.
The thing is, you can’t argue with success. And tens of thousands of people whose lives were in shambles, whose ability to understand the world around them and relate in a holistic, positive way to others, swear by this lady. They believe in her gifts for healing, embrace her unorthodox teachings and methods, and unquestioningly ascribe to her almost supernatural powers.
So . . .
This is her story.
This is how it all began!
You decide . . . was Dr. Joy a genius or con artist?
[ Author’s Note: Granted, this is a slight change of tone from my previous posting. The point is, the literary merits of my book are not relevant to discussing the emergence of one of the most controversial individuals in the history of psychology — a woman no less, in a field as patriarchic as the National Basketball League. It’s only fair that you judge for yourself both Dr. Joy Mania and her putative impact on individual and family therapy. Of course, this begins with your buying at minimum ten copies of Sex, Lies & Coffee Beans and sharing them with family, friends, even passing strangers. Then think about it, talk about it, write about it, make this the core purpose of your life for the next six to eleven months. I personally can’t see any other possible course of action. ]
Life In Japan: Police Power III
The police in America are in the news a lot these days. More on that later.
No one likes being stopped by the police for running a stop sign or failing to wear a seat belt. That’s true everywhere. Such interactions with enforcement officers mean a ticket and a fine. At the same time, if you were in violation of the law, regardless of how minor the infraction, they’re just doing their job, there’s no reason to resent, hate, or fear them.
The other side of the coin is that on rare occasions, calling the police yourself is the best option in handling a situation. It’s certainly quite helpful to be able to request professional assistance. A stranger is wandering around in your back yard. A stray dog is foaming at the mouth, leaping in the air, apparently infected with rabies. A person has just crashed their car into a tree and is slumped over unconscious behind the wheel. You do what you have to do and a trained, concerned, professional police officer is an obvious place to start when dealing with many emergencies.
In over twelve years, I’ve only had three interactions with the police here in Japan. All were fine, not in the least unpleasant.
One time early in the evening, I was driving down the main street here in town, came to a stop at a T-intersection, and two officers stepped up to my car. They didn’t even ask me for identification. They simply wanted to know if I’d been drinking. I replied, “I don’t drink.” They thanked me and I went on my way.
Another occasion I wrote about in the article Life In Japan: Koban. That was a very intense situation with the police helping a disoriented lady I found laying on the side of the road, who miraculously hadn’t been run over before I walked her to the police station. The officer was extremely polite and highly professional, asked questions and took a lot of notes for his report on the incident. He got the lady safely back to the retirement facility she had wandered away from.
One other time, I was riding my bike and an officer on a motorbike stopped me, looked at the registration tag on my bike to make sure it was current and my bike not on their stolen list. The whole thing took about 30 seconds and I went on my way. Yes, they patrol on motorbikes. And yes, they are meticulous about stopping bicycle theft.
Which brings me to the actual theme of this particular article, the vast difference between policing here and what appears to be going on back in the U.S.
I’m not here to rag on the police in America. They do what they do in a completely different environment, one where crime is more of an acceptable — sometimes the only — lifestyle choice, violence is a admired national pastime, and guns are as available to and common among the general public as chewing gum. The main point here is how dramatically different life in Japan is from life in the U.S.
Whereas the police in America are frequently viewed as adversaries, not to be trusted, to be avoided, sought as a last resort in many communities — especially communities of color — here in Japan, they are still viewed as trusted public servants. Being a police officer is a highly-regarded, admired profession. As I was brought up to believe way back in the 20th Century, a police officer is a member of the community and your friend.
The article posted at the top is about a visit by police officers to a local school to show the students a typical police van. The kids were extremely excited and fascinated by the way it was outfitted. And the officers ended up giving the students a ride in the vehicle. That’s the way the police like to be seen and regarded here, by citizens of all ages.
My wife’s daughter, Izumi, teaches kindergarten here locally. The police occasionally are invited by her school to meet with the kids, who regard their visits as a special occasion. Last time they came by, they worked in the school’s garden with the children, harvesting sweet potatoes. Students and police then took the fresh potatoes inside, baked them and had lunch together.
Perhaps nothing sums up how unique the police are here than this story. Here we meet Yemon, a cat which has been recruited to work in Yoro Station in Miyazu, Kyoto.
I have a feeling that being a “cat burglar” is not a very good idea in this police precinct with Yemon on the job.