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1998

Abstract

f hours, we reached our sheltered picnic spot. I pulled out my smartphone, found the viewpoint on google maps, and located the shrine that was next to it. I called the number for the shrine.</p><p id="d214">“So sorry to bother you, but I left my camera on the wall by the restrooms at 10:30 this morning. Do you think you could take a look and see if it’s still there? I really appreciate your help.”</p><p id="33e8">“I’m busy now, but I can check it later. What’s your phone number? I’ll call you back.”</p><figure id="e00a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*eMrN3-B3q-Ju4HAkpuP7TA.jpeg"><figcaption>The woman at the shrine was kind and helpful.</figcaption></figure><p id="15df">Leaving thoughts of my camera aside, I ate my sandwich and enjoyed the serenity of the forest. Just as I had finished, my phone chirped.</p><p id="3a23">“Moshi-moshi,” I answered.</p><p id="a46d">“Hi, it’s the lady from the shrine. I checked the wall but there is no camera. Why don’t you call the police? Maybe someone turned it in.”</p><p id="751f">Not being familiar with the police locations in the area, I asked, “Which police station should I call? Do you know?”</p><p id="1fd3">“The one in front of the station.”</p><p id="7e4b">After profuse thanks to the woman, google maps came to the rescue again. I found the police station, gave them a call, and told them my story.</p><p id="1628">“Yes, someone turned in a camera found at that viewpoint this morning. You’ll need to send us a copy of your ID and some sort of proof that this is your camera. It would be bad to send you someone else’s camera, right? We get an awful lot of cameras and smartphones turned in here,” the policeman went on, seeming happy to talk.</p><p id="10f4">“Once we receive your fax, after the weekend, we will send your camera to you COD, is that OK? Is it alright for you to pay for the postage?”</p><p id="7f92">“Of course! Thank you very much!”</p><figure id="f97c"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.r

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eadmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*vSVB-EtuL5aR43GezARDBg.jpeg"><figcaption>Hiking through the forest.</figcaption></figure><p id="9a56">Five days later and back at home, I had my camera.</p><p id="ae5e">Thank you, anonymous person who turned it into the police.</p><p id="b161">Thank you, kind woman at the shrine.</p><p id="526b">And thank you, helpful policeman.</p><p id="8acd"><i>Photos ©Diane Neill Tincher</i></p><p id="d834">If you would like to join Medium to get access to unlimited stories, using the link below will provide me with a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you!</p><div id="abbe" class="link-block"> <a href="https://diane-japan.medium.com/membership"> <div> <div> <h2>Join Medium with my referral link - Diane Neill Tincher</h2> <div><h3>As a Medium member, a portion of your membership fee goes to writers you read, and you get full access to every story…</h3></div> <div><p>diane-japan.medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*OYLTun_O-uusQeuW)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="db7f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-old-woman-of-odawara-f031526c8d9e"> <div> <div> <h2>The Old Woman of Odawara</h2> <div><h3>And how Japan retained its writing system after WWII</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*FspQ-uJqCzkDkqJ2)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="52db"><i>For more photos and information on Japan, visit my website, <a href="https://www.morethantokyo.com/">More Than Tokyo</a>.</i></p></article></body>

LIVING IN JAPAN

Lost and Found — The Commonplace Honesty of Japan

The tale of a camera

Many Westerners may not realize the honesty and respect for others’ property that is woven into the fabric of Japanese society.

By way of example, let me take you back a couple of years, to a sunny day in June in the wilds of Gunma Prefecture.

I was walking along, enveloped in the tranquility of the forest, enjoying a hike with some friends.

As we picked our way from rock to rock across a stream, I reached for my camera.

It was gone.

My camera!

I had left it on a wall by the public restrooms at the mountain viewpoint where we had stopped 40 minutes earlier.

Now what was I going to do?

I certainly didn’t want to walk all the way back up the mountain to the viewpoint to see if it was still there.

Who should I call?

Oh well, I couldn’t worry about it now. I’ll wait until we stopped for lunch.

Sunlight dappled through the leaves. Birds and cicadas were singing. The weather was perfect. After a couple of hours, we reached our sheltered picnic spot. I pulled out my smartphone, found the viewpoint on google maps, and located the shrine that was next to it. I called the number for the shrine.

“So sorry to bother you, but I left my camera on the wall by the restrooms at 10:30 this morning. Do you think you could take a look and see if it’s still there? I really appreciate your help.”

“I’m busy now, but I can check it later. What’s your phone number? I’ll call you back.”

The woman at the shrine was kind and helpful.

Leaving thoughts of my camera aside, I ate my sandwich and enjoyed the serenity of the forest. Just as I had finished, my phone chirped.

“Moshi-moshi,” I answered.

“Hi, it’s the lady from the shrine. I checked the wall but there is no camera. Why don’t you call the police? Maybe someone turned it in.”

Not being familiar with the police locations in the area, I asked, “Which police station should I call? Do you know?”

“The one in front of the station.”

After profuse thanks to the woman, google maps came to the rescue again. I found the police station, gave them a call, and told them my story.

“Yes, someone turned in a camera found at that viewpoint this morning. You’ll need to send us a copy of your ID and some sort of proof that this is your camera. It would be bad to send you someone else’s camera, right? We get an awful lot of cameras and smartphones turned in here,” the policeman went on, seeming happy to talk.

“Once we receive your fax, after the weekend, we will send your camera to you COD, is that OK? Is it alright for you to pay for the postage?”

“Of course! Thank you very much!”

Five days later and back at home, I had my camera.

Thank you, anonymous person who turned it into the police.

Thank you, kind woman at the shrine.

And thank you, helpful policeman.

If you would like to join Medium to get access to unlimited stories, using the link below will provide me with a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

Join Medium with my referral link - Diane Neill Tincher

As a Medium member, a portion of your membership fee goes to writers you read, and you get full access to every story…

diane-japan.medium.com

The Old Woman of Odawara

And how Japan retained its writing system after WWII

medium.com

For more photos and information on Japan, visit my website, More Than Tokyo.