Beware of pervert

In Japan, perversion seems to be profuse.

From the country that names food items after obscure sex practices and created the hentai boom, this is no big revelation.

Yet it is not something that is glaringly apparent at first glance.

At first glance, Japan appears to be an exceedingly polite and reserved country. It is a place where cops directing traffic, my bus driver and the subway conductors thank me everyday for unknown reasons. People will bow before taking the seat next to me on the subway or bus, and will stare at me in horror if I am eating while walking (extremely rude in Japan).

These groping and other perverted incidents have increased steadily in the last couple of years. In 2004, a Tokyo survey found that more than 60 percent of Japanese women in their 20s and 30s admit to having been groped on a train.

I am thankful to say that I did not become aware of this pervert problem from first-hand experiences, but mainly from observation of the various ways Japan has gone to combat it.

I got my first taste of Japanese pervert prevention early during my study abroad. During my very first commute to school, I had been on my subway car for about three minutes when I realized something significant about my fellow passengers: they all lacked a Y chromosome. A little puzzled, I had looked around some more and noticed a bright yellow sign on the door that read: “Women’s Only Car. From first train to 9:00. From 17:00 to 21:00.”

As the subway stopped at various stations, I saw the same bright yellow sign on the walls right outside, stating “Boarding Point for Women’s Only Car.” Apparently, males were not allowed on this car during rush hours. At that time, however, I failed to notice the social implications behind a women’s only car, and could only feel gratitude that I was born a girl—because if I had been a boy, I definitely would not have seen the sign before I got on the train either. And I dare not imagine the consequences of a man on a women’s only car.

Women’s only train cars date back to the 1920s in Japan, when a separate car was introduced for female students to ride on so older men would not stare and lust after bodies. They then went out of relative use, but made a comeback in 2000 after rising complaints from women of being harassed by drunken men and getting groped in crowded subway cars. Now, they exist in almost every major city.

Of course, there are other ways to avoid perverts on subways. The most painful of these have high school girls carrying safety pins and prickling their assailants. The most direct method, however, is to simply grab the hand fondling one’s body and scream “CHIKAN!” (basically, pervert/molester in Japanese), though this is rarely utilized by Japanese women. In fact, the main cause of the rising numbers of train perverts is attributed to the fact that women rarely fight back if they are groped.

In addition to groping, photographing and recording women have also been a problem. This goes for both for perverts on crowded trains and perverts that like to hide out in women’s bathrooms, waiting to snap a rather obscene photo of an unaware victim.

Every couple of days, I’ll walk by a public bathroom somewhere and see a sign warning women of recent pervert antics and to be careful while using the restroom.

Japan’s answer to this particular problem was to attack the tool of the trade. I found out last month that the reason I could not turn off the shutter sound for the camera on my Japanese cell phone was because it was a preventative measure against perverts taking pictures without the subject’s knowledge. Similarly, when I tried taking an experimental video with my Japanese cell phone, I was greeted with a noise similar to a shotgun going off upon start and end of my recording.

Although observing Japan’s pervert prevention program never ceases to amuse, it does come with the unfortunate side effect of becoming very paranoid and adding on to my list of unnecessary worries. I am now somehow very aware of my behind, and anyone within reaching distance of it whenever I am on the subway or bus, though I am doubtful any part of my body is actually worth grabbing. This, however, is something I guess I should be thankful for—at least in Japan.

Lisa Du is a Trinity junior. Her column runs every other Friday.