車事故 (Car accident)

It was 8:30pm last Wednesday, and I had just finished playing basketball with the “F-sports” club that I joined last March.  Usually I ride my bike (the gym is about a 25 minute bike ride away from our apartment) but since January it’s been a little too cold.  Thankfully, the five of us Americans have been able to share a car, and it was available that Wednesday night for me to use.

Since passing the Japanese driving test last September I’ve grown pretty accustomed to driving in Japan.  The roads are generally smaller than the roads in the USA, but then again, so are the vehicles, and the speed limit is a little bit slower in Japan as well.  The strangest thing has been driving on the left side of the road, but that’s already become as natural to me as driving on the right in the USA.  The intersections and traffic signals are a little different in Japan, as you’ll soon see . . .

I was traveling west on Hwy 13 and had stopped at a red light at one of the biggest (and strangest) intersections in Fukushima City.  There are four west-bound lanes with four choices of where to proceed:  Left: down a small street; Straight: to arrive at the train station; Straight and slightly right: to go up a bridge that goes over the train tracks; and Right: to continue on Hwy 13. 

The signal changed to add a green arrow pointing left, and a green arrow pointing straight, accompanying the still-present red light (as seen below):

This traffic signal is very common in Japan.  It simply means you can drive straight or make an easy left turn (for the USA equivalent, think right turn), but you can’t turn right (this would require you to cross on-coming traffic).  The first several times I encountered this signal in Japan, I had a hard time convincing myself it was okay to proceed straight, despite the fact that there’s a solid red light facing me!  In the USA a common signal would be entirely opposite:  a solid green light with a red arrow pointing left (thus prohibiting a left turn).

Back to the story.  Assuring myself that I could, indeed, proceed forward I entered the intersection, concentrating on my destination lane:  Straight and slightly to the right to go up the bridge.  Almost immediately I saw a car approaching quickly from my right (which, by the way, is the driver’s side of the car in Japan).  I slammed on the brakes but it was too late.  We collided.  The sound of crunching metal and breaking glass filled my ears.  My car came to an immediate stop.  The other car, continuing in its path, skidded to my left, spun 45 degrees and flipped onto its left side. 

My car was still running, my seat belt was still on, and my heart was racing.  I took a deep breath.  The reality that I was just in my first major car accident - in Japan no less - was beginning to sink in.  The thought suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea what to do.  I did not have a cell phone.  I could not call the police.  I didn’t even know the number for the police (apparently the emergency number here in Japan is 119 – again, the exact opposite of the USA).  I was about to get out of my car and immediately be the center of attention of a gathering crowd of Japanese people, who were going to ask me questions that I would not be able to understand.  How was I going to have a conversation with the other driver?  Was the other driver even okay? 

I decided the first thing to do was get out of the intersection.  I turned on my hazard lights, pulled over to the left side of the road, and turned off the engine.  I got out (thinking to myself, “Am I really okay?  I can’t believe I’m just going to walk out of my car after an accident like that!”) and went over to the other car.  It was resting on its left side with the top of the car facing me.  The driver was standing in his car, his feet on the passenger-side (left side) seat, his head and shoulders sticking out the driver-side window.  “大丈夫ですか？” (Are you okay?) I asked.  He shouted something at me and reached out and tried to grab the cuff of my coat.  I had no clue what he was saying to me, but it was clear that he was very angry.  I backed away.  Other Japanese people surrounded me, asking me the same question, as well as many others that I didn’t understand.  There were a couple men on their cell phones – were they calling the police?  I looked back at the other car.  The driver had gotten out and was trying to come after me.  Two Japanese men were holding him back.  I quickly put a little more distance between me and the driver.  At the same moment I heard police sirens.  I’ve never felt more relieved to hear that sound!

When the police arrived I met them as they got out of their car.  The other driver was no longer trying to come after me.  Several people were explaining to the police officers what had happened.  What were they saying?  I couldn’t understand their words.  More and more police kept showing up.  An officer realized I was one of the drivers involved in the accident and began asking me questions.  “日本語は大丈夫ですか？”  (Are you okay with Japanese?)  I told him I would try my best (at least that’s what I tried to say).  He had a look of, “Oh crap, this is going to be really difficult to communicate,” on his face.  An ambulance arrived.  More questions:  Are you okay?  Do you want to go to the hospital?  I think four or five people (police, paramedics, pedestrians) told me they thought I should go to the hospital.  I wasn’t about to go anywhere until I had called Haidee. 

I was able to ask one of the men with a cell phone if I could borrow it to make a phone call.  Thankfully he agreed.  I called Haidee – but being that it was from a strange number she didn’t answer.  I called the church and (thank you, Jesus!) Nomura Sensei answered.  I explained to him in a mixture of English and Japanese that I had been in a car accident, but I was okay.  Then came the difficult task of trying to tell him my exact location.  Very few streets in Japan have names – and if they do they are seldom marked.  Finally I turned to the man who had loaned me his phone.  “今どこにいますか？” (Where are we?).  お願いします. . . (Would you please . . . ?) Then I handed him the phone.  He realized what I was asking him to do, and very graciously consented.  I was so blessed to have had his help!  Another kind man kept telling me in Japanese, “It’s alright.  You were correct.  I saw it happen.” (or something like that).

Meanwhile more police arrived and began collecting information.  They seemed to be very efficient about their work:  they were interviewing eye-witnesses, taking pictures of the scene, blocking off lanes of traffic and measuring distances on the road.  One female officer pulled out a big drawing board (attached to her uniform with two straps) and began recording all the data in the form of a large sketch of the intersection: where the cars were located, where certain pieces of evidence (such as broken class, the piece of a car bumper) were located, and the distances between all of these points.  Then they blocked off all four lanes of west-bound traffic and had me walk out to intersection and show me which lane I had come from, where I was when I saw the other car, where the impact occurred.  I explained as best I could in Japanese and English, asking to borrow a piece of paper and a pen to draw the picture of the signal (like the above photograph).  The other driver was talking to police officers as well.  Was his story different from mine?  I didn’t know. 

A satellite photo (thanks to Google maps) of the intersection.  The pink box is the other driver, the dotted line his path.  My car is the yellow box, the dotted line was my intended path.  Where the two lines cross our cars collided.  The black boxes with red outlines are other cars that were stopped at the light (blocking my view of the oncoming driver).  The white lines indicate where you are supposed to stop - they aren't always square to the intersection as they are in the USA.  The police make a sketch of the above intersection and included all the data they collect at the scene.

Nomura Sensei arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief (I think the police officers were happy to see him, too, when I explained that he could understand English).  I explained my story again, this time in English with Sensei doing his best to translate for me.  A man from our car insurance company arrived and Sensei recounted my story to him, and gave him some of the necessary documents from the car.  Meanwhile, after asking me for the 5^th or 6^th time if I was sure I didn’t need to take the ambulance to the hospital, the paramedics headed to the hospital with the other driver.  How bad were his injuries?  I still don’t know.  I can’t believe we were both able to walk away after that collision. 

The tow truck arrived and pulled up in front of my car.  It was such a nice little car!  The Nomura’s had given it to Cindy after they bought a new car.  The five of us Americans had really enjoyed the convenience of having a car for our use!  Just before they towed it away I had the presence of mind to open the glove compartment and grab some of our stuff (I had no clue when we’d see the car again).  At the last moment I decided to take this picture:

Poor "Zeek" - goodbye, little friend.

The tow truck driver sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the key.  The engine started immediately.  He drove the car right up the ramp onto the flat bed of the tow truck.  Nomura Sensei and the police officer he was talking with both stopped and stared at the car.  “すごい!” they said.  I can’t believe it still works!

There were very few people left at this point.  Both cars had been removed.  The police officers had collected their data.  The eye-witnesses had both left.  I wish I could have thanked them for staying to talk with the police.  I don’t know what the outcome would have been if they hadn’t stayed to tell the police officers what they had seen. 

The truth of the matter is, I was very blessed in a number of ways:  I walked away with no serious injuries.  (Yes, we visited the hospital last night, and yes, my neck hurts, but the X-rays and the physical exam were both fine – they sent me home with pain killers and muscle relaxants).  Had I driven out in to the intersection a fraction of a second sooner, the other car would have hit me dead on my driver’s side door, and I might not be typing this blog.  Someone else on the road immediately called the police.  Two eyewitnesses stayed and explained to the police the truth about what happened.  Nomura Sensei arrived and took care of all the insurance logistics. 

It was another good reminder for me that, despite the fact that we think we are in control, we are very much in need of God’s mercy and protection every moment of our lives.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dear Father!  Amen.”