Japanese Slang (19 page)

The train doors open, and there is a stampede of passengers shuffling and jostling their way to the
exits. The waiting criminals call this situation
ori
(from
oriru,
“to descend”). In the five or ten minutes until the platform is empty again there is a stealing frenzy known as
oritsukai
(using the descent) and
utsu
(to hit). Each pro has his own methods: some go for simple pocketpicking, known as
shakuru,
others steal bags,
bankakai
(the backwards version of
kabankai,
“bag shopping”). Other platform specialists do
hineri, butsu,
and
butsuri,
snipping off golden chains and necklaces, and still others thread through the throng clutching what platform jargon calls
geshihaku,
a small dagger-like contraption. These thieves do
oitore:
walking next to a well dressed victim, they plunge the razor-sharp instrument into his fancy attache case, cut the side open, and hope to hit the jackpot.

The careful platform pro, however, will stand back and watch the passengers alight from the train. His sixth sense tells him who is the perfect victim or
hakoagari
(box descender), and on seeing him will immediately barge his way through the crowd. This stalking of victims on platforms is known as
hor
i.

As the crowd begins to disperse, a second group of thieves jumps into action. These are the
hakonori
(box riders),
hakotsukai
(box users),
hakoshi
(box specialists),
nagabakoshi
(long-box specialists),
kanebakoshi
(money-box specialists), and
hakogayoi
(box transcenders). They spot the well-dressed victims on the platform and follow them onto the train. In Japanese criminal jargon the train is always treated as a box.
Hako
(box) and its backward version
koha, kanebako
(money box),
nagabako
(long box),
gomibako
(trash can), and among older criminal riders even
shamisen,
the traditional box-like string instrument.

Victims come in all shapes. The
nemu, gaisha
(from
higaisha,
“victim”), and
doroku
(road number six) are the easiest marks. They are obviously not Tokyoites; they brandish their wallets, count their yen notes in full view of the platform sharks, and leave briefcases and luggage leaning against a stanchion while they go shopping for last-minute snacks. The drawback is that this type of prey does not usually carry anything worth stealing. One niche up is the victim who at first glance looks provincial and not worth robbing, but on closer scrutiny shows definite signs of hidden wealth. Pickpockets give this type of passenger the ethnic Korean name
poniwata.
Another eligible victim is characterized as
honkai
(true purchase) and
honke
(true home); a clear outline of the bulging wallet in a trouser pocket can be seen from a distance. The best victims are
nukui
(warm),
namahaku
(cash vomiters), and
norikin
(riding gold). Lost, confused, and provincial, they stand on platforms blinking at the electronic arrival and departure screens, big wads of yen notes practically falling out of their pockets.

•   
Asoko ni tatteru gaisha o neratte miru ka?
Shall we go for that easy mark standing over there?

•   
Aitsu wa mikake wa
da ga, poniwata ni chigain
!
That guy looks like shit, but he's definitely loaded!

•   
Oi, miro yo! Ano honkai nogasu beki ja n
ze.
Yo! Don't let that true purchase get away!

•   
Y
! Maita n
a! Kory
! Mare ni miru norikin da ze!
Ooh, man, yeaaah! That guy there's a rare riding gold.

The final minutes before the train pulls out of the station are charged with fervid anticipation. The train jostler's nimble eye glazes as he culls and reculls all
the eligible victims, hastily weighing the pros and cons of following them onto the train. The victim that he finally places his faith in is called
toku
(the beneficial one).

The final announcements roll over the loudspeaker. The warning sounds, the doors are about to close, and passengers bustle on the platform. The thief's heart begins to flutter.

•   
Oil Tanomu kara! Kono densha ni notte kure yo n
, toku-san y
!
Oh please, please! Please ride this train, Mr. Beneficial One!

The glorious moment in which the victim picks up bags and briefcases and steps onto the train is designated in platform jargon as
iwai
(celebration). Relieved, the happy thief climbs on board and the electronic doors close behind him.

The platform pros are not the only thieves to run for the train. The
okinagashi
(those who put and flow) climb on a local at one station, grab bags and coats, cameras and camcorders, and then jump off at the following station. In the meantime, the
tanashi
(shelf specialists) clean out the racks above the seats, while the
bataoi, minz
, bega, suka,
and
gy
ta
steer clear of bags and cases, and go picking from pocket to pocket. When thieves meet colleagues on trains they cordially avoid each other's turf, and the cars are carefully split into thievery arenas. Those nearest the engine are the
maeba
(the front place—a sprightly pun on
maeba,
“front teeth”), the next few cars are the
ueba
(upper place, or “upper teeth”), and the last several cars the
atoba
(after place).