你可能读了满满一书架关于日本的书，但依然没有找到一个清透地反映该国灵魂的“窗口”。而在某天大雨倾盆的东京成田机场，就在飞机起飞前，透过那些地勤人员仪式化的动作，我找到了。
IthadbeenadayoftedioustrudgingtobusstopsandtrainstationsthroughmiserableTokyoweather: temperaturesinthelow 40s, icyrain, andagustywindthatpenetratedeventhemultiplelayersofclothingIwore.[1] Thenastyconditionsonlyintensifiedaseveningdescended, butbythenIwasatlastwarmanddryinsideNaritaAirportandmakingmywaytothegatetoboardtheplanethatwouldtakemehome.[2]
IseldomhaveanopportunitytolookoutofanairplanewindowbecausewhentravelingbyairIalwayschooseanaisleseat (longlegs)[3]. Thistime, however, theremainderofmyrowwasunoccupied, sooncethecabindoorwasshutIslidovertotheportholetoseewhatIhadbeenmissing.[4]
Scurryinghereandthereontheconcreteapronofthegatewerethemembersofourgroundcrew—allofthemmen, andallofthemwearingneatlyappointeduniformsandtheplastichardhatsthatarestandardissueinJapanforjustabouteveryoneengagedinanysortofmanuallabor.[5] (Ihaveevenseenthemonrestaurantcooks.)
Withinafewmoments, onecrewmemberwhohadapparentlyfinishedhisassignedtaskwalkedtoanareajusttotherightoftheplane’sfuselagewherepaintedlinesonthegroundindicatedaspotoutofharm’sway.[6] Iexpectedhimtomakeabeelineforshelterindoors, butinsteadheturnedtofacetheplaneandthenadoptedaposturethatthemilitarycalls “paraderest”—legsstraight, feetaboutshoulder-widthapart, armscrossedbehindtheback.[7]
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