There I was, standing at a baggage carousel in New York's LaGuardia Airport, thinking the world had gone mad. I'd spent the previous 16 months living in the city of Oita in northern Kyushu.
Compared to what was around me, Oita had been a cocoon of safety. Residents apologized for apologizing, and bowed their way out of giving directions. Once, a Lawson employee ran two blocks simply to hand me the rice ball I'd forgotten on the counter. Elementary school children, eager to practice their English, had walked behind me giggling, saying "Hello!" as I headed to work.
But New York? Well ...