TAKING THE NIGHT TRAIN

"I just pooped on the tracks," She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named said, with obvious relish.  I wasn't sure what I had done to deserve this confidence, but I hoped it would stop there.  We were on a night train in Southeast Asia, and the amenities of this particular form of transportation included a toilet consisting of a hole in the floor.  On the upside, the smell was far more bearable than in most public or airline bathrooms. 

Train travel can seem romantic and adventurous, a nod to the days of yore.  If you're like me and grew up obsessively watching Bing Crosby and cast in White Christmas over the winter holidays, your conception is that trains are filled with clean sheets, club cars with fresh sandwiches and milkshakes, and dazzlingly spotless surfaces.  However, like most things 1950s Hollywood wanted us to believe, this depiction of life is far from reality. 

It's true that night trains are economical: you're paying for transportation and lodging.  It's also a chance to see the countryside (when it's light out, at least).  Plus, you don't waste time traveling from point A to point B, when you could be out exploring or drinking cocktails on the beach.  Theoretically, you go to sleep one night and the next morning you've arrived at your destination.  Theoretically.  

The night train can be jarring, particularly if you're tall, like to be punctual, value peace and quiet, or have an aversion to being in close quarters with strangers.  I have only ever traveled by sleeper train in Southeast Asia, so I can't speak to Europe or Russia or many of the other countries/continents that provide such services.  But here, friends, are my recommendations if you decide to take the night train.  

1. The cardinal rule: plan for the worst, hope for the best.  This applies to many things in life, but in particular to train travel, as it's difficult to know what you're getting when you buy a ticket.  Maybe you'll sleep in a compartment with a lockable door; maybe not.  There may be a place to stow your luggage under a berth or on a rack, but your suitcase may also spend the night in the corridor, being tripped over by people.  Safe or dodgy, barely-there air-conditioning or an arctic gale...you get the picture. Try to plan for every eventuality, and then some. 

Berths on Thailand train

2. Do your research.  Make sure you buy tickets from a reputable company, and buy them in advance, as many trains fill up quickly.  An excellent resource for train travel worldwide is The Man in Seat Sixty-One.

Ladies traveling sola, be aware that compartments aren't necessarily segregated by gender.  You might end up with a family, as I did in Vietnam, or you could be shut in with a bunch of men. Keep an eye out.

3. Spoon it.  Make sure your valuables (particularly your passport and money) are in a small enough bag that you can wrap your body around or hold in your arms while you sleep.  Other traveling safety tips apply as well- keep a photocopy of your passport elsewhere, don't leave valuables unattended or flash around jewelry or electronics. Security varies on trains, from sleepy young guys in tatty uniforms to actual guards with holstered pistols.  In the end, you're responsible for your stuff. 

Top berth on a sleeper train.  There's often a reading light next to the bed, and a dark curtain that closes to give you privacy.  

4. Don't accept drinks or food from strangers unless you see them open it.  This may sound like an overabundance of stranger danger, but there have been situations in some countries where people have been drugged, and there are signs on trains warning passengers to be cautious.

On the other hand, it's nice to be able to develop rapport with people over a cookie or a handful of potato chips.  "Everyone likes the person who offers them a stick of gum." -Michael Scott

5. Splurge.  Go for the A/C.  You're probably saving money already by taking the train instead of flying or renting a car.  Particularly in hot climes, it's wise to go head and pay for an air-conditioned car unless you want to stick to your seat all night or be eaten alive by bugs passing through the open windows.  

6. Allow yourself plenty of time.  The trains in your country may run with enviable efficiency, but that is not true everywhere.  Don't assume that you'll arrive (or depart) at the time listed on your itinerary. 

When I woke up on the train in Thailand on return to Bangkok, I looked at the time and said cheerily to my companions, "Just two more hours before we get there!"  No-Name looked at me and said, "No, we're delayed by a couple of hours.  The train broke down in the middle of the night and they had to come in and replace the engine car." Eventually we made it to Bangkok...5 hours later than we planned.  Several people on the train (including my companions) were catching a flight out in the early afternoon and had to get off early to hail an expensive cab to the airport. 

7. Pack a snack.  There may be a club car on the train, but there's no guarantee that what they'll serve will be edible or attractive to you.  In some places, you may have local vendors get on and off the train, selling cold drinks, junk food, and homemade delicacies.  

At night, these seats fold down into a lower bunk. 

8. Don't forget ear plugs and a sleep mask.  For those who enjoy white noise when they sleep, the constant hum and clack of the train may be soothing.  The carousing of other passengers, frequent announcements from the conductor, and other shenanigans may not be as lulling. 

9. Bring hand wipes (or even better, a pack of Gatsby).  Chances are you'll be required to check out of your hostel or hotel in the morning, leaving you to sight see for most of the day before catching your train.  If you are someplace hot and muggy, you will be sweaty and smelly, and there is a slim likelihood that you will find a shower on the train (and an even slimmer chance that you will want to use the shower if it does exist).  Baby wipes, hand wipes with alcohol and Gatsbys are excellent means of freshening up.  

Gatsby deodorant wipes

10. Be pleasant.  If you're staying in a compartment with multiple berths, you'll be sardined in with a bunch of other people.  Try to avoid sticking your feet in someone's face, spreading your stuff around everywhere, keeping people awake, etc.

Finally, if someone dies suddenly on the train and you see an egg-shaped man with a luxurious mustache and a pince-nez, SPOILER ALERT: everyone around you is a murderer except for the mustachioed Belgian.  

The sinks and toilets drain directly onto the train tracks.

NO COUNTRY FOR YOUNG CHILDREN

Forget the yakuza.  Forget politicians or big business.  If you want to know who runs Japan, look no further than this article concerning the complaints being filed against schools and daycare centers.  Here's the gist: kids are noisy, and the elderly wish they would pipe down.   My grandmother would have put it another way: Children should be seen and not heard.  The elderly want institutions and individuals caring for children to enforce this adage, even going so far as to file suits against schools for damages for mental suffering.  According to childcare experts, however, the problem with penalizing people who work with or have children is that it deters couples from having more kids, lowering the already precariously low birthrate in Japan.  This in turn places an even greater financial burden on younger citizens to support the burgeoning aging population.  

What a menace.  From www.japantoday.com

I was surprised to learn that children are being targeted for, well, being children.  First because as the article points out, Japan is "a nation where convenience stores blare electronic greetings and political candidates shout through high-volume megaphones at train stations." Not to mention the political candidates who hire vans with loudspeakers to drive through neighborhoods at late and early hours to shout campaign slogans, or the ungodly din of the pachinko parlors at any time of the night or day. Then there are the elderly themselves, who are far from meek and taciturn.

I speak from a place of cranky experience when I say that the elderly are not silent waifs waiting to pass from this life into the next.  Board any packed train in Japan, and the two greatest creators of noise are students commuting to and from school, or the elderly on some sort of group excursion.  More often than not, the sound that awakens me early in the morning is not my alarm, nor even the speaker that shrieks morning announcements from the village outside my window.  No, I am usually jolted awake by the sound of my 80 year-old neighbor's gravely voice shouting greetings or small talk at other neighbors passing on their way to work.  Other times it's the obachans (grandmothers) who thwart naps, sleep, or Skype calls with their gossiping roundtables.  Conversely, all the local kids seem to be inside by dinner time, leaving only a brief window during which they play soccer, ride bikes, or skip rope.


It will be interesting to see if any of these lawsuits gain traction in the courts.  On the one hand, you could argue that inhibiting children could adversely affect their development, and that it is unreasonable for people to expect absolute peace and quiet during working hours, unless you were also going to levy fines against delivery trucks, construction crews, gardeners, etc.  

However, the elderly are, for all intents and purposes, the primary special interest of Japan.  The yen was kept artificially low for years in order that retirees might be able to live a luxurious lifestyle, cheaply.  Deflation benefited the aging, but hurt a lot of Japanese businesses, which were forced to relocate their operations abroad in order to survive.  Japanese politicians are notoriously wary of coming down on the wrong side of an issue that might anger their most important voting demographic: the aged.  Not to mention the billions of yen being poured into caring for the elderly and providing for their welfare, mostly at the expense of the working sector, which makes up a far smaller percentage of the population.  

Hopefully both sides are able to strike a happy balance.  Maybe insulating houses and apartments would provide a modicum of soundproofing (not to mention making the summers and winters more bearable).  Just a thought.  

SAY CHEE-SU

I hate, HATE having my photo taken.  One day, someone looking back on my pictorial history will realize that there are whole years of my life in which my image has gone undocumented.  I wasn't abducted by aliens, nor was I on the lam.  I simply have a strong aversion to being on the lens side of the camera.  

So why, then, do I jump at the chance to have photos taken in Japan?  One word, a special circumstance: purikura. Purikura is, for lack of a more eloquent definition, a cracked out photo booth.  Located in malls and ear-splitting arcades are pods where you can step in, and for about $5 have a series of shots taken with your friends, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc.  "But Edub, that's just a regular photo booth," you say.  Not so!  Unlike other photo booths where you're stuck with the zits on your face or that big tuft of hair sticking up from your head, purikura allows you to modify your pictures before printing them.  It's up to you to decide what finishing touches are needed.  A mustache? Cute hearts? A cow-print background? Go for it. Add it all.

My first purikura experience.

Purikura is more than just a fun souvenir from time at the mall; it's also a way to advertise your social life.  My students paste their photos to folders, binders, and even their pencil cases.  I see them examining them in class, or showing them off to their classmates- "This is my boyfriend," or "Look at my cute outfit!" The photos are also an indicator of the obsession with looks that pervades high schools and junior high schools.  The photo booth software automatically airbrushes and lightens your complexion, and allows you to make your eyes much, much bigger and rounder.  And there's some sort of function to make your lashes look darker and fuller, and your lips as though you put on a particularly fetching shade of lip gloss that morning (even if you're a guy).  Thus, you can always manage to look your best, if not most authentic, self. 

Next time you're in Japan, don't be shy.  Step confidently into that photo booth, turn on your biggest smile, and don't forget to flash that peace sign.  

Outside of one of the booths.

Inside one of the booths. 

Photo editing console.