NOTE: A version of this appears in the May 2020 Where’s the Funny newsletter. It also was a Spring Contest submission to the editors of Nowhere, which has been publishing literary travel writing since 2008 – maybe too literary, as I did not make their Top 10. Try, try again!
It’s 2002, and I am on the Shonan Shinjuku Line to Saitama Stadium for a FIFA World Cup futbol match between England and Sweden. The monthlong tournament, for the first time, has two hosts – Japan and South Korea – and I am on the train with William, a friend from London.
I only have tickets to the United States matches in South Korea, but as luck would have it, William happens to have extra tickets for two of Sweden’s matches, both here in Japan. Why Sweden? If William’s English? Funny you should ask.
Unbeknownst to me, William has a shocking secret. In a previous life, he was married to a Swedish au pair. What’s so shocking about that? Isn’t that a fantasy for a lot of dudes? Take it easy. Let me continue.
It doesn’t take long for William to realize his Swedish au pair is in fact a femme fatale, as she runs off with a tall, dark and heavily-accented stranger. Or, as William puts it, “an Ecuadorian day laborer.” Apparently, Swedish au pairs have fantasies of their own.
Despite the extra-marital drama, William has a terrific friendship with the au pair’s brother, Anders, of Malmö, Sweden. It’s Anders, former brother-in-law turned friend, who is responsible for the extra tickets.
So here I am. On this Tokyo train to Saitama. With William, Anders and two of Anders’ friends, also from Malmö. Got it?
The train to the match is packed. I’m in borrowed Swedish gear, all dressed up in yellow and blue, with a “tall boy” can of Kirin Ichiban lager in my hands. It’s deadly silent, which is a bit odd on a jam-packed train. But this is Japan, not London or New York, and usually no one talks – not even us gaijin (foreigners).
Now, I’ve seen crazy-ass salarymen passed out on these trains, after an evening of binge drinking and karaoke with their colleagues. But typically the Japanese are a fairly reticent people – especially in public. At the earlier World Cup matches I had seen on TV, only the cheap seats – the sections behind the two goals – are raucous. This is where the most fanatic team supporters sit.
The swells (mostly corporate sponsors and their guests) who fill the plum seats between the goal lines generally sit on their hands (unless Japan is playing). No boos. No whistles. And certainly no profanity.
For locals, the Sweden-England match today is not much more than a curiosity – a chance to see what underwear model David Beckham actually does for a living. And to see lots and lots of dressed-up foreigners act weird. Like on this train.
I am out of beer and tired of the quiet. So I pull out my trusty Berlitz Japanese phrase book and dictionary – the one that promises “Travel with ease … communicate with confidence!”
In a slightly drunk, distinctly obnoxious American voice, I shout, “Kon-nichi-wa!” This is Japanese for “Hello!” Total silence. I continue:
“Watashi no namae wa Steve desu.” (My name is Steve.)
“Kankoo de kimashita.” (I’m here on vacation.)
“Biiru wa arimasu ka?” (Do you have beer?)
“Saifu o wasure mashita.” (I’ve forgotten my wallet.)
I explain to my entourage what I’ve just said – or tried to say in Japanese – and they laugh. These are phonetic pronunciations that Berlitz provides. The butchering is all mine. I sense a tiny bit of intrigue among the Japanese passengers in the train car. I continue, speaking really slowly and loudly, trying my best to communicate – like yelling at a deaf person:
“Sumimasen.” (Excuse me, please.)
“Nihongo wa amari hanase masen.” (I don’t speak much Japanese.)
“Seeri ga hyaku ka-getsu kan arimasen.” (I haven’t had my period in months.)
“Byooin wa doko desu ka? (Where can I find a hospital?)
“Futsuka yoi no kusuri o kudasai.” (I’d like some medicine for a hangover.)
“Ichiban chikai saka-ya wa dokodesu ka?” (Where’s the nearest liquor store?)
“Moo ikanakutewa narimasen.” (I must go now.)
“Doomo arigatoo.” (Thank you very much.)
I’m on a roll now. At least I think I am. The Japanese in the train car appear to be hanging on my every (mispronounced) word. I flip through the Berlitz book as quickly as I can, but my cadence is way off. There’s a lengthy, silent pause between lines, as I search for the next non sequitur.
It helps that key sections of the book are color coded: Health, Travel, Eating Out. I find the section labeled Sightseeing, which includes Nightlife and Encounters. This is pure gold, I tell you! I begin again:
“Goissho shite itadakeruka ureshii desu.” (I’d love to have some company.)
“Koko ni suwattemo ii desu ka?” (Do you mind if I sit here?)
“Watashi wa ninshin shite imasu.” (I’m pregnant.)
The Japanese on the train, other futbol fans, my friends – the entire car bursts into laughter.
“Nani ga okashiin desu ka?” (What’s so funny?)
“Watashi no nihongowa son-na ni heta desu ka?” (Is my Japanese that bad?)
“Uchi ni kimasen ka?” (Would you like to come to my home?)
“Ima wa mada dame desu.” (I’m not ready for that.)
“Kamawanaide kudasai!” (Leave me alone!)
“Ashita mo aemasu ka?” (Can I see you again tomorrow?)
“Mata denwa shimasu.” (I’ll be in touch.)
“Gomen kudasai!” (Bye!)
With smiles all around, the good-natured nonsense ends as the train slowly pulls into Urawa-Misono station. This has been one wild ride – most certainly 50 minutes I will never forget.
Always leave them wanting more.
Epilogue
The match ends in a 1-1 draw, which by all accounts is an epic victory for underdog Sweden and a bit humiliating for England, which fields a team of superstars. So most everyone in our group is happy, save William, who at the moment is a very, very glum Englishman.
But back in real life, William will have the last laugh. He marries Sally, a beautiful and brilliant Brit who works for the BBC. And what happened to the au pair and the handsome Ecuadorian? Well, he’s in prison. Attempted murder. You guessed it – of the au pair. I hear she’s still available.
