M8 (Losing a Kid in Tokyo)

Tokyo is the largest city on Earth. With a population of over 37 million people, it has four times as many people as New York City. (Fun fact: no US city is on the list of top 10 most populated cities. None even comes close.) The metropolitan area covers 8407 square miles. Eight thousand four hundred and seven.

You can see and do practically everything in Tokyo. So far we’ve been to an owl cafe and a fox cafe and more train museums and shops than you can count. The kids spent yesterday at an indoor amusement park complete with roller coasters and a poop museum next door, while I filled my afternoon exploring the many book stores in Jimbocho and having tea at a cafe decorated with French novels that are over 100 years old.

Given the ease with which one can navigate the vast public transportation system, you can get almost anywhere in the massive metropolitan area within a couple of hours. Of course this can be extremely exhilarating, or not. 

A few days ago, there was some interpersonal conflict, and one of the kids ran away. I’m being vague about what happened for their privacy, but they’ve agreed to let me share this.

The conflict (that occurred because the kid didn’t like how I handled a situation) happened near the central exit of Tokyo Station. Tokyo Station is one of the busiest train stations in the world with 14 train lines. Three thousand trains and 1.1 million people go through it daily. It also has a fairly elaborate underground shopping and restaurant district.

It’s not a great place to lose someone.

The kid in question walked away from me and kept walking. I tried catching up to them but the faster I walked, the faster they walked, too. If you’ve ever been to Japan, you know that people tend to be pretty quiet in public, so shouting for the kid to stop would have drawn attention that would have certainly driven them to run. I calmly called their name and asked them to stop, but they didn’t. And then they disappeared into one of the underground passageways. 

Fortunately, as they were getting away from me, I had the presence of mind to yell that I couldn’t catch them but would be waiting for them at the spot where I was standing. At the top of the stairs of exit M8. 

Ren and the other two kids were still in the station buying tickets to a special exhibit, unaware of what had happened. I stood at M8 and tried calling him. When I finally reached him, he was confused. Weren’t we in the station waiting for him to get the tickets? When he finally processed what I was saying, the three of them came to join me at M8. We had the two kids sit there while Ren and I went down to look. We split up, but it only took about ten seconds to realize there was no way we could find someone down there. They could be in any shop or on any number of trains. They could also have resurfaced at another exit and be walking away from us in the city. 

It was hard not to panic. Or cry. 

We decided to have Ren stand looking for them in the station while I waited at M8. The two other kids got on the train back to our lodging. As I waited, I called Ren and asked when we should call the police. In my head I was composing a list of what the kid was wearing and their physical characteristics (calculating their weight and height into kilograms and centimeters), and I was thinking about which recent picture to show the police. Ren thought we should wait to call the police until the other kids confirmed the third kid wasn’t at home. 

I sat on the ledge at M8. My feet dangled like a little kid’s. An older Japanese woman gave me an odd smile. I tried not to think about the possibilities. The missing child doesn’t know the city well and was upset enough that they couldn’t make safe or rational decisions. Maybe they didn’t hear me when I told them where I’d be. Maybe they were upset enough that they would forget where they were. 

And there was no possible way for me to find them. I felt completely helpless. And terrified. Those minutes when I was sitting alone at M8 trying to will that kid back to me felt like the longest minutes of my life. 

And then, after we’d been looking for about 30 minutes, they reappeared at M8. They were above ground and came from a completely different direction than I expected. I hugged the kid and thanked them for coming back. Then we talked about ways to get away and regroup that didn’t include terrifying loved ones. I really think the they didn’t understand how worried we were. 

How do I end this post? I don’t know. I constantly fail as a mom, and then I get up the next day and try again. I guess that’s something. 

Top Ten Things I learned in Tokyo (On This Trip So Far)

We’ve been back in Japan for about two weeks, so I thought you might like an update. Here’s a list of things I have learned/realized/had reconfirmed:

1. No matter what I do, I’m going to end up buying my kids shoes in Japan. 

Last year on our first full day in Japan, it became immediately apparent that none of the kids had workable shoes. We don’t walk as much in our everyday Midwestern life as in Tokyo, where we average about 5 miles a day. It wasn't until we were somewhere in the middle of the city that I learned that Sky forgot to bring the inner soles of his shoes, Falcon's shoes had holes, and Stow's shoes, which were brand new, no longer fit. 

After buying three pairs of shoes on day one last year, I made SURE they all had shoes that fit and that were in good shape. Apparently, that was enough for them to make it 12 days until I had to buy three new pairs of shoes again, because this time Falcon's shoes were "too loud" and too hard to put on (who chooses high tops to wear in JAPAN?!), Sky's shoes were "too neon," and Stow managed to walk until he got holes in the shoes we bought about a month before our trip. Honestly, the only one who actually NEEDED shoes this time was Stow, but the dollar is strong against the yen right now, and I was really tired of hearing about the noise issue and the neon issues.

2. The only way to survive a rush hour train commute is with noise-cancelling earbuds and a solid playlist. 

I do everything humanly possible to avoid trains at rush hour. You've seen the videos. Rush hour in Tokyo is no joke. Sometimes, though, I have no choice. There are a lot of sub-lessons about trains as well: A) Even if it looks like another person can't fit, they can. If you are that person, step on to the train, turn around and back yourself far enough in that the door won't close on you. People packed on a crowded train tend to settle into place, and somehow you will find yourself with enough room. B) If you're short like me, try to stay near the door or the ends of the bench seats, so 1) you have something to hold onto, and 2) your face is not in everyone else's armpits. 

Anyway, I'm a bit claustrophobic and REALLY dislike crowds of people, so the crowded train is a worst-case scenario for me. My ability to cope with it has improved greatly since I got earbuds that cancel out all of the surrounding noise, so if I close my eyes, I can forget that I am on a train full of people. I even do this when I am on a train not packed with people and highly recommend this for anyone with claustrophobia or social anxiety. Also, if you want to hear one of my playlists, leave a comment or PM me on Facebook.

3. No matter how much I tell myself I won’t, I will STILL buy more pens. 

I have a lot of pens. This may be an occupational hazard for anyone who does work in or on Japan. Or maybe I just have a problem. Either way, I always resolve that this trip I will absolutely not buy any more pens. Last trip, I made it three days before buying one (and then a bunch). This time, I made it six days. But, I only bought two pens, and that's because these are absolutely the best pens I have ever used!!! I know I only needed to get one and that I could probably just get by buying ink refills for the same type of pen I bought last year. But what if the pen breaks? What if it gets lost? What if the padded rubbery part on the end gets sticky or gunky? How would I go on then? You can really never be too careful when it comes to pens.

I mean, look at this thing!

4. Getting the kids their own rooms was a stroke of genius  

I probably don't even need to explain this one. They need their own space where they can decompress and do their own thing. All siblings annoy each other, neurodiverse kids with very specific ideas about the world can make life impossible for one another. Miraculously, I finally convinced Ren to try AirBnB because lodging for 5 people in Tokyo is nearly impossible to find and puts us in really tight quarters. The AirBnB house we are using is tiny by US standards, but we all have space to get away from each other!

Falcon's bunkbed cave

Stow's room is barely big enough for his bed and less wide than Stow is tall.

5. It’s impossible to spend time in Japan and not walk away with lots of tchotchkes

I also regularly make resolutions about not bringing any more geegaws into my life. But, then I come to Japan, and I quickly crumble under the sheer number of opportunities to buy things I do not need. This time, I am proud to say I have largely managed to resist, though I did buy a couple of figurines and a sticker from two of my favorite Miyazaki Hayao films.

Model of one of the robots from Castle in the Sky

Uncle Pom sticker

Kodama from Princess Mononoke--can you blame my choices on these?!

6. You can waste a lot of money on vending machines and gachapon (Gacha gacha in English?).

We always give the kids some spending money when we come to Japan. Last year, Stow spent every yen that he got buying interesting drinks from vending machines (which are practically on every corner) and gachapon machines, which are also increasingly almost on every corner. Gachapon are machines that you pay anywhere from 200-500 yen to get a capsule with some kind of tchotchke in it. The machines are thematic with anywhere from hats for cats (Bunny Pearl has NO idea that this is her year to get initiated into the world of cat hats) to tiny soldiers in ring boxes to your favorite anime character holding different kinds of food. There are entire stores full of gachapon machines, and the possible "prizes" are oddly addictive. So, yeah, last year Stow spent about 15000 yen on gacha and drinks. This year, he has done MUCH better. He's managed to save his spending money, but the gacha fever seems to have spread to Falcon. Curse you, savvy toy marketers!

So. Many. Vending machines.

Gachapon haul

7. While I love big cities like Tokyo and Kyoto, I’m a small-town person at heart.

See #2 above. Also all of the posts I have written about mountains.

8. I will never master the Japanese ability to make a long train commute on a muggy day and still look and smell fresh. 

I really don't know how people do it. Inevitably I look like a cat that has just been given a bath whenever I get off the train after a rainy day commute. Meanwhile, the people around me are not only not wet, but they are better dressed and WAY more put together than I am on even my best days. I want some of that magic. 

Me after a June train ride

9. Traveling with three kids is challenging. Traveling with three neurodiverse kids can seem downright impossible at times.

I'll write more about this later, but I wanted to flag it here and say that sometimes I can forget how hard this is for the kids. Also, Ren is a saint, an absolute saint.

10. Monaka remains the best ice cream treat in the world.  

What can I say? Crispy cone on the outside, thin piece of chocolate in the middle of vanilla ice cream on the inside, not to mention the way the outer layer is lined with chocolate BUT STILL CRUNCHY. I believe it is a testament to human genius and ingenuity, and encourage you all, every single one of you, to eat one (many).

I mean, all Japanese ice cream is great....

....but nothing beats Monaka!