Why Not Take a Cab?

After a difficult Japanese lesson left a series of questions in my head and no good answers, B. and I went to her lovely neighborhood bar and to down some aka wine and negi chahan. I had a healthy buzz when we were leaving, and decided that I did not want to take three trains to get home, and was most certainly too tipsy to make my way through the hell of Ikebukuro station. I live pretty close to the bar, and technically I could walk home if only I knew which direction home was. It must have been the wine talking when I decided that it would be much easier--and probably not too expensive--to take a cab. Lucky for me, one was right there.

I got in and said, "Higashi Ikebukuro eki," to the driver while waving goodbye to B. out the window. For some reason the driver started talking to me. I think he was making small talk because he kept saying, "Desu ne," at the end of his sentences. I momentarily thought that I could probably just answer him by saying, "So desu ne," but figured that might be misconstrued as understanding on my part, of which there was none, and I probably shouldn't just blindly agree with whatever he was saying.

About a minute into the ride, while at a stop light, I decided to try to tell him that I wanted to be dropped at the exit by the Zoshigaya cemetery--which is big enough to be a city in and of itself. I don't know the word for cemetery in Japanese, but had had great luck just speaking English to people all day and thought maybe that luck would continue. After saying, "Sumimasen," a few times I finally succeeded in getting his attention. I said, "Zoshigaya cemetery," and watched for some form of recognition. He said, "Hai, hai. Zoshigaya," and started rattling off some Japanese that I'm sure I've never heard before. I said it again, this time followed by a, "Wakarimasuka?" Of course he didn't understand. How many people, even if they speak a little of another language, know the word for cemetery? After saying, "Dead people?" a few times without any form of recognition, I decided that it was time to start miming. I put my hands around my throat, put my head to the side, stuck out my tongue a little, made a gurgling sound, and said, "Dead people." This he seemed to understand, but he had no idea why I was talking about it. The wine haze was starting to lift a bit, and after seeing that I was really getting nowhere with this poor man--who was probably starting to get a little worried about what kind of person he had picked up--I called S. to ask what the word for cemetery was in Japanese. He offered to talk to the driver and give him directions, and so I sat back and tried to reclaim my buzz.

After another few minutes, he pulled across a railroad crossing, stopped the cab, pointed in front of him and turned around saying, "Dead people!" with a huge grin on his face, obviously very proud of himself. Directly in front of us were, in fact, dead people. I said, "Yes, dead people, but I don't know where we are!" He smiled really big and again said, "Dead people!" What else could I do but pay the man and get out?

The taxi driver drove away and I was left standing completely alone at the edge of the cemetery in the dark. I had no idea which edge of the cemetery, nor in which direction I should start walking. After wandering around the cemetery for a little while, I found a map--of the cemetery. I took a picture of the map and emailed it to S., telling him that I had been dropped somewhere in the cemetery and I had no idea where I was. I also emailed B. because when you're lost at night in a cemetery, you need all the support you can get. I walked back to the tracks, but didn't know which way to follow them. [The station I wanted to be dropped at is a subway station, anyway.]

I had seen another cab drive through the cemetery when I was dropped off and decided to try my luck at finding another one. I kept to the main road, eyes peeled for a light on top of a car. There were a few cars parked on the side of the road, still running. I thought it was kind of strange to be parked in a cemetery at night until I got closer to the cars. Of course it makes sense that there are morbid freaks in Japan that like to fuck in cemeteries, too.

B. was more worried about my predicament than I was. While she was undoubtedly thinking, How can one be dropped at the edge of a graveyard and get lost?!, I was thinking, Ha! I got dropped at the edge of a graveyard and now I'm lost!! I figured I had another couple minutes before I changed my mind about it and started really freaking out. I kept following the line of running cars and somehow stumbled upon an intersection that looked very familiar. Within 5 minutes I was home, my buzz almost completely gone.