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Date: Wed, Feb 2, 1995 11:30 PM EST Street corner of one-way streets in the middle of Osaka, salarymen and OLs dodging taxis and trucks to get to work; a cardboard man pulling his cart, radio playing the theme song of a popular samurai drama, stops before crossing. On the back of the cart a white sign says "Never give up" in red ink. Below and above the English, something in Japanese in black ink. But I am one of the morning salarymen and pass him before the kanji becomes meaning. I hear the music follow behind as he pulls his half-full cart into the intersection. In English? Hmm...could be something to write about. I stop, gaze up between the buildings and feign interest in spotting another military helicopter. I wait for him to overtake. The music seems stopped behind me. I turn around and direct myself back towards a stationary shop. We will pass again, this time face to face, but I won't look at him. There are cardboard men everywhere you go in Osaka, Tokyo, Kyoto, Kobe...Some have dogs in tow and the radio is a common feature. The carts are generally 4x8 with oversized bicycle wheels and high sides. I remember once considering the economics of this kind of work: from where to where and how much. I filed it under Japan's unemployment insurance system. It's not a person, it's a condition, better not to look. His head follows me as we pass. He says something to me. The Japanese sounds clear, I would understand if I was listening. But I am focused on getting behind him to read what else has been written. I turn, again the English "Never give up." in red. Above in Japanese: "Once more a beautiful Kobe." below: "Everyone, let's do what we can." I follow long enough to confirm my translation and then turn towards the ATM machine that is my temporary destination. What did he say to me? I remember only the tone: almost an invitation, somewhat of a reminder. But the words did not stick. I lost them and got only money. Copyright 1995-2009 Finesituation. All Rights Reserved.. |
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