A Bit of Perspective

This weekend the internet went out at my house. Rather than be sad about it, I thought I'd take the opportunity to get out of the house a bit and get some exercise. I made a plan to bike to the neighboring town, do a little shopping, then study at my favorite cafe. I prepared myself for a healthy outing, loaded my bag with a snack and a workbook, and went outside...only to find that my brand new mountain bike had been stolen.

Instead of biking to my favorite cafe to study, I ended up walking to my favorite police box to report my stolen bike.

After over an hour of struggling through the Japanes questions the officers asked me, filling out paperwork, and calling Hitoshi for help when I couldn't answer questions, I eventually got the report filed and returned home.

No sooner did I get home than I received a phone call from the officers. I eventually understood that they were asking if they could come by my apartment. I told them it was fine, and about 10 minutes later the younger of the three officers I had struggled to communicate with showed up.

When he arrived, he said, in perfect English, "I'm sorry, I forgot to check your registration card."

I was floored. I couldn't believe he made me go through all that questioning in Japanese when he could speak English so well. My shock obvious, he apologized and told me that he had to speak Japanese to me earlier to see how much I could understand, should I need to testify. I found the excuse weak, but also suspected it had to do about the taboos of publicly showing up one's superiors, so I didn't press the issue. He checked my registration, took a few notes, told me the chances of getting my bike back were better than average because the color and size of the bike, then left.

Now, with no car, no bike, no internet, I was officially cut off from the world. I started feeling really bummed about the series of craptacular events that had occurred recently. My driver's license, my internet, my bike. My mind slipped into self-pity, but I glanced at a letter still sitting on my entrance mantle and remembered it's contents. I'd received it three days ago from my company,

A fellow co-worker of mine had been killed in an accident; hit by a car this past week. I had not known her well, the news still shook me. It took me only a moment to realize that while I was mourning the loss of my bike, her parents were mourning the loss of their daughter. While I was figuring out how I would now get to work, they were figuring out how to get her body back to England. It is easy to forget, but few things are as emotionally sobering, or puts the events in our lives in perspective, as being reminded of our own morality.