Places made by their people

I call it the map test.

Just stand still, pull out a map, and look lost. Or in my case, actually be lost.

Then wait.

Standing on the platform, I frowned at the crumpled paper in my hands. Tokyo’s metro map resembled the work of a crayon-wielding preschooler, much less a tool to help me navigate out of the city. In rush hour, a sea of black suits oozed around me like tar escaping an overturned truck, and Shinkansen sped off in a blur as their departure times snapped onto the digital clock above me. I had no idea which train was mine.

As my eyes darted between the many arrows overhead and my upside-down map, the slight-framed woman to my right shuffled towards me. She placed her bag at my feet, then held both palms up with a shrug to ask ‘where do you want to go?’. I realised she didn’t speak English.

I dug in my pocket to produce a train pass printed with ‘Hiroshima’.

The woman quickly shook her head, briefly disrupting her impeccable jet-black hair before it fell neatly back into place. She punched the map with her index finger, then tilted her hand left, then right, then sharply downwards. Apparently I’d missed the mark by a long shot. Golly, I was even on the wrong level.

I looked at my watch and a slight panic washed over me—aware of my woeful sense of direction, I reprimanded myself for not allowing more time to navigate the busiest train station in the world.

But the map test was about to enter uncharted territory as the woman latched a delicate hand into the crook of my arm and set off towards the escalator. Ducking and weaving, we carved a path through the crowd; my suitcase clacking behind me.

As we rounded a vending machine filled with bananas, the woman gave a polite nod and I looked up to see ‘Hiroshima’ scrolling across a sleek white bullet train. Relieved, I turned to express my gratitude, but she was gone.

I don’t know where the woman was going that day, but I suspect she missed her train so I could make mine.

Now, when I reflect on my trip to Tokyo, it’s not memories of the Tsukiji Market or Imperial Palace that truly make me smile—it’s the result of the map test, because it’s the people that give a city its heartbeat. Such kind hospitality is something you can’t forget.

So next time you find yourself astray in a foreign land, simply grab a map, look lost, or be lost, and test the city’s warmth; for it might just create the fondest memories of all.