Bike Rescue

I've been putting off rescuing my bike from its kidnappers for quite some time simply because I figured it was going to an annoying process. Today I decided enough is enough; so I pop on the iPod and walk to the Sakura-ku Ward Office, which is somewhat like a community center and local government building. I had a plan of attack for the day which included a handwritten note from one of the girls at my Nova branch explaining were I lost the bike and when (thanks Maiko!). At the ward office, I give the note to the receptionist and she is immediately on the phone with the "upstairs people" to ask what to do. A couple of minutes later a tiny Japanese lady runs up to me and says a bunch of things in Japanese. I hand her the note, she nods, bows, and runs away. The receptionist says "please wait". 20 minutes goes by. The upstairs lady runs up to me, seemingly out of breath, as though my request caused her to run all over the building (incidentially, in any office or business setting in Japan, people never just walk, they jog in this hilariously polite way; even in McDonalds when the person at the counter goes back to get your Big Mac, they'll jog). She hands me a stack of printed sheets explaining everything I need to do to get my bike back (in Japanese of course), and she gives me a massive map printout of the area complete with highlighted instructions for the exact route I should take from my current location to the bike lockup (in Japanese of course). Luckily I recognize the places on the map. Looks like about a 30 minute walk. I thank both ladies with a bow and a domo and take off.

Finding the bike lockup proves difficult. It takes asking for directions from at least 3 well meaning Japanese before I find it. Oh what a sight though! The bike lockup is a large gravel area by the train station that contains literally thousands of kidnapped bikes. As I walk into the compound, four old Japanese men approach me with big grins. One of them says "when was missing?" "10 days" I tell him. All four men excitedly walk with me to find my bike. It takes about 5 minutes before I spot it. When I do, one of the men says "key" and I hand him my wheel lock key; then through a confusing series of hand gestures I'm told that I need to follow the other man to the payment booth. At the booth, I'm told to write my name and phone number and provide 1000 yen ($10). I sign, pay the man, and my bike appears. The two remaining men whip out white cloths, wipe my bike down to clean it, and hand it over. All four of them bow deeply as I ride away.
The biggest mistake you can make here is have expectations for anything. While I was expecting mountains of forms, heavy fines, and stern looking men in uniforms to get my bike back, it turned into a pleasant and oddly heart warming series of events. I fogot about the fact that its incredibly silly for police to be stealing bikes, especally thousands of them, and the fact that I faced a fine just for not parking my bike in the right place.