The Railway Man

My father was a railroad man. In his day, those who chose that life treated the traveler with utmost care. Even after my father left, every summer until high school he put me on the night train for Omaha to visit my grandmother for two weeks. I can still feel the attention given me by the conductor as we journeyed through the dark, the little Swedish woman waiting at the other end.

The other day I was on the train to Matsuo-taisha Shrine. Not particularly attentive, I got off one stop sooner than necessary. Realizing my error, I consulted Google Maps which directed me to walk 2 minutes. Failing to recognize the absurdity of it, I left the station before understanding. Returning, I caught the attention of the man behind the counter.

I showed him my phone and did my best to explain the situation. He told me I would have to swipe my card again then pass through. Another absurdity I thought, but I didn’t want to make an issue of it.

Once on the other side, he summoned me.

“I issue a credit,” he said kindly. And then commenced.

First step, look up something in the little black book.

Second step, retrieve blank paper.

Third, make a note to himself,

or me,

I wasn’t sure which.

Fourth, consult the computer.

Fifth, fill out the green credit form.

Sixth, affix the official stamp.

The kind Railway Man then explained what I was to do with it. None of which I understood.

Handing me the green form, he directed me to Platform 2, the one from which I had departed a short time earlier. Once there, I learned that the train for Matsuo-taisha Shrine would arrive in 5 minutes.

With time enough, I walked down the ramp to take a photo,

so as to remember.

There was a tap on my shoulder. It was the Railway Man, concerned that I was confused. He walked me back up the ramp then placed me in the spot where I was to wait.

A minute later the train arrived,

at the precise moment promised.

Poet David Whyte wrote:

Traveler, of all shelter

you'll ever find on the road,

even with those you know,

the stranger's love is best of all.

I don’t know if that’s true in the strictest sense with the Japanese, having heard more than once that you never know what they’re thinking. But I have experienced that if you respect their culture, they’ll treat you with utmost care and deference.

For the traveler, that is love enough.