My visit to Osaka held a number of firsts for me. It was my first airline flight over water, it was my first visit to a foreign country, and it was the first time I was going to use a subway system. Having grown up in a small Mid-Western town, and later living in a Western city that considers a few bus lines rapid transit, the thought of using a subway system seemed sophisticated and wildly cosmopolitan. My older brother, who was living and teaching in Osaka, set me up with a detailed subway map on my first full day in town. Luckily, Osaka has a very sensible and easy to navigate rail system. He pointed out the nearest stop, Tenoji, and the stop where he worked, Namba.

"Do whatever you want today," he says. "Then meet me at the Namba stop at eight o'clock tonight."

Fine, I say. No problem. Look at me! I'm sophisticated! I'm wildly cosmopolitan!

"But," he warned, before leaving for work. "Watch your butt."

Sure, I say. I'm going to watch my sophisticated butt get on the subway! I had seen how a subway works in movies. Surely, Osaka's rail system was going to be similar. How many ways can you buy a ticket, go through a turnstile, board a train, and go?

Once underground at the ticket machine, I felt relieved. It WAS just like that Sandra Bullock movie where the guy is in a coma and she convinces him they were engaged, and then she falls in love with the brother. But, no matter. I bought my ticket, waited for the train with a bazillion other Osakans, and when the train approached I thought of Anna Karenina and was kind of freaked out.

The doors opened, and I didn't even have to step abord. Nope. The rush of people literally carried me inside the car. It was bright, it was clean, it felt like were were cattle being taken to the slaughter house. No...air...squeezing...my...lungs. Somehow I wiggled my way up to the window at the front of the car. From there I could see the conductor as well as the tracks speeding up to us. This was better. Even though I was still being squished into half my size, from here I could see out, from here I could watch the conductor push buttons and talk on his headset, from here, I could...FEEL A HAND ON MY BUTT. There isn't much room on this train, I told myself. Maybe someone just doesn't have space for his (or her!) hand? But, I was wedged too tightly against the glass to turn my head and see who was cupping my left cheek. Maybe if I shifted my weight, the perpetrator would realize they were touching me. I shifted as best I could. I even shook a little bit, hoping that would signal that I was not to be used as a hand rail. But, it seemed as if the hand were glued to my rear end. I went left, it went left. I went right, it practically met me there. There was nothing to do, but wait for the train to stop.

The ride to Namba didn't last that long, and bodies came and went, so I never did see who was the cheek holder. The whole incident didn't dissuade me from riding Osaka's subway. In fact, the rest of my rides were rather uneventful. However, if you're ever squeezed into a subway car in Osaka, make sure to watch your butt.

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