This is another picture from a bathroom. I’m not really sure why bathrooms have become a recurring theme in this blog...

Anyway, in some stalls, they have these baby seats that allow parents’ hands to be free. The idea would seem pretty self-explanatory, but, just in case, there are instructions.

1. Never turn your back on your baby. This woman is in a MUCH larger stall than I was. I had trouble turning my back on the stool.

2. Beware. Babies will make a break for it at the first opportunity.

3. Of course, there’s the obligatory finger-pinching warning for the mechanically disinclined.

4. And finally, never ever let your baby smoke while sitting in this chair.

Well, in the continuing saga of the Japanese driver’s license, I got to the right place at the right time and more incomprehensible lectures, to me anyway, followed, interspersed with scary video tapes about what can happen to careless gentsuki riders and then it was time to be taught how to actually ride a scooter. When I later mentioned this process to my friend, Jim, he said this seemed to be a bit backwards. Shouldn’t you learn how to ride and THEN get your license? I must be adjusting somewhat to Japan because that never occurred to me. At this point, our group had all passed the written test and we were entitled to our licenses, but apparently, besides for me, no one knew how to ride a scooter.

Also at this point, I realized that the rest of the people in the class were about 17 years old. The person checking us in looked at me and said “How old are you?” Her tone added ‘anyway’ to the question. I’m getting a little tired of that question.

In addition to being the oldest, by a long shot, I was also the biggest, by far. They had to send back to the main building for a larger helmet, which was handed to me with the English sentence, “You have a big head.” Hey! We needed some work on comparatives there - not big, just bigger.

A couple lectures - or instructions, I don’t know - and several videos later, we were ready to ride... and it was raining. Out with the rain suits. On with the rain suits. They come in sizes up to 3XL and that’s what they managed to find for me. Just to be clear, 3XL in Japan is about L in the U.S., but it fit fairly well and out we went.

The Menkyo Center provided each of the dozen or so of us newly licensed riders with a scooter and for the next hour or so, we rode around an obstacle course in the rain as instructions were shouted at us and demonstrations were given.

Now, to me, the first instruction for riding a motorcycle should be, ”Don’t ride in the rain!” It gets a little slickery out there. I think that’s a general rule in the U.S. There are lots of sites online with advice about riding in the rain, most saying just don’t do it.

It was never even mentioned in this class. They just put us out in it.

Thinking about it, I realized this. If you don’t ride your motorcycle in the rain in Japan, you’re not going to spend much time riding your motorcycle. It’s always raining or threatening to rain. Everyone rides in the rain and no one seems to worry about it. High school students and grandmothers and office ladies and postal carriers and pizza deliverers all ride in the rain, though the pizza people are on three-wheel bikes with windshields. There’s one more thing that is unexplainable about cultural differences. Why would it be safer to ride in the rain in Japan than in the U.S.?

The end of this part of the blog is pretty anticlimactic. We finished our training, went back inside, took off and returned our helmets and rain suits and were handed our licenses and that was it. Finally, I thought, and I'm sure you're thinking, as well.

Of course, I still had to do the reverse trip back home by bus and train, but the next day, I rode my scooter to the university and legally only almost got killed twice.

It’s that dang left-hand side of the road thing.

I think the people are around here are becoming aware that there’s a foreigner in town.