My Crazy japanese Life

The beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning?

admin — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 13:22:23 +0000

Today felt a lot different than yesterday did. I awoke this morning and felt lighter, alive, and full of purpose. Clouds that had been hanging over my head for over a year had finally dissipated to reveal a bright blue sky (or rather gray but with a nice warm breeze). What could have happened to cause such a change in my disposition? What could have happened to lighten my load? What was the series of complex events that led to this awakening? Well, it’s actually pretty simple. I quit my job.

Although I had been planning it for a couple of months now, and thinking about it ever since they chopped my pay, it was always this nebulous thing that was going to happen ‘pretty soon.’ Yesterday, when I finally pulled my boss aside and told him that I was done, it finally became a reality. I had stepped over a line and could no longer go back. From now on I had to look forward and plan what to do next because I was on my own and without support. The resources I had (and will receive over the next 2 paychecks) would be all that I had to make my dream a reality (see Tramp Royal).

My boss, upon hearing the news, furrowed his brow and looked to fall into deep thought for a moment, then looked at me and said, ‘Really? Okay.” I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t even ask why, perhaps he knew, perhaps he didn’t care, but I was.

The next day the news was received by the rest of my coworkers with a shrug of the shoulders and a ‘Where are you going to go?’ Not a single person asked why. Two years of my life at this company working to market their goods seeing these people day in and day out yet…I can only shake my head. This day was no surprise to anyone, they all knew that some day I was going to leave. The thought that I might stay with this company long term didn’t even cross their minds (which probably explains their complete lack of support or interest).

The page I am on in life is finally being turned to reveal a new and blank one which is for the best because I’ve been scribbling in the margins of this one for a while. I don’t know exactly what my future will bring but then again no one really does. What I do know is that I have decided what to do next. I have determined my ‘destination,’ grabbed the wheel and set sail. The part of my life where I drifted aimlessly going with the current is over. Though it does seem like I will be doing the same thing around Southeast Asia it is different. How I cannot explain exactly but for the first time in my life I feel like I’m grabbing the reins rather then let the horses run free.

I may or may not be making the right choice about my future but at least I am making one.

My Crazy Japanese Life is coming to an end, but my days as a Tramp Royal are beginning!

The dog and pony show

admin — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 03:23:24 +0000

My new business card - hot off the press

There pretty much isn’t anything that can happen at my office that will surprise me anymore. I’ve been on the receiving end and observed enough to have grown a pretty thick skin. I don’t even take it personally anymore. Nowadays even the most absurd of things are received with a thoughtful smile and gentle chuckle. That doesn’t mean they aren’t notable. Take for instance the dog and pony show yesterday.

Officially, meaning having been told, my company has no international leads other then the ones I have dug up from my meanderings on the Internet. My boss and our salesmen attend numerous exhibitions working hard to find customers and at each of these exhibitions there is quite a turn out from businesses from all over South East Asia (mainly China, Singapore and Taiwan). I know this because I have been to a few exhibitions myself. To date, however, we have yet to catch the interest of one of these companies, or at least as far as I know.

“Michael! ” my bosses voice boomed from the conference room. ‘Yo!’ I answered without looking up from the project I was immersed in. My coworkers looked up from their monitors. ‘Yo,’ what kind of reply was that to the boss summon? “Come here please.”

I stood, walked the 15 feet to the conference room and opened the door. “How can I help you?” I asked already knowing the answer. “Michael, this is one of our customers. He is going to sell our products in China” my boss announced. “Really? That very interesting” The neurons in my brain controlling surprise barely flickered. I turned to the customer, “What kind of business are you in?”

“Stone. Our company deals with stone.” I waited. “Really…” another pause still waiting for something. “So you would like to sell our products in China. That is a difficult market.” He looked at me with impassive eyes, “Yes, very difficult.” Another pause as silence filled the room. Finally, “Michael, if they have any import problems they will contact you.” “Um, okay. Well, it was nice to meet you…” I started to leave the room. “Oh wait, give him one of your business cards!’ my boss suddenly exclaimed. I half turned and smiled, “Please wait while I get one.”

I returned a moment later and the customer and I performed the ritual dance of exchanging business cards. “Thank you, that will be all” my boss dismissed me turning back to his laptop opening another file for viewing. I wondered if he wanted me to juggle for a few minutes before I left because thanks to training I received in middle school I’m pretty darn good. I was very tempted to ask but refrained. With a shrug I returned to my desk.

Now, for those of you who don’t quite get the situation let me draw it out for you. I am the International Marketing Manager for this company (or so it says on my business card). Usually it is a good idea to keep the person who is trying to manage 9 products (2 product lines) worldwide up to date and in the loop so they can guide things along a correct path, or at least similar one. Keeping them in the dark then calling them into the middle of a meeting for a surprise introduction to a customer only to be dismissed after a quick exchange of business cards is well, odd.

I wish I could say that was the highlight of my day but in a meeting later that afternoon I heard my boss proudly bragging to customers “…and our products are really booming in America!“ Really? Not as far as I know, but then again what do I really know?

Oh, if your interested I am available on weekends and holidays for private shows.

Only in Japan.

A better lie please

admin — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 01:46:15 +0000

There are some days you just have to shake your head and giggle (in a slightly maniacal fashion) at what utterly ridiculous situations arise. I have worked for two years and have finally come to a full understanding of how I fit into the puzzle that is this company. Or rather, I should say, how I don’t fit. My title may say in nice bold letters on my business card, ‘International Marketing Manager,’ but in reality I’m just the white guy sitting at the table in the middle of the room.

You would figure with a title like mine I would be making calls around the world, traveling to far away places, wheeling and dealing with the big boys so to speak. Everything regarding the company’s dealings with the world outside Japan should by all means be run past or at least mentioned to me so that I could keep the international ’stuff’ unified. After all, that is my job…right?

‘Michael, do you have the English version MSDS for product X?’ my coworker suddenly called out to me from across the room cradling a phone between his shoulder and neck. I looked up from the ‘how to’ video I was in the process of making. ‘Yes, and so do you. I put it on you computer about 6 months ago. It should still be there.’ A moment passed, ‘Oh, thanks, I found it.’

My focus began to shift back on to my project but suddenly there was a nagging in the back of my head. I waited a few minutes for my coworker to get off the phone. ‘Why do yo you need the English language version of the MSDS?’ After all, there was no real good reason for a person who dealt only in domestic sales to need one.

Five seconds, ten seconds, then finally ‘I don’t know.’ I looked at him patiently. Another five seconds, ten seconds, ‘Maybe they can’t read the Japanese version or they want the English version,’ he said staring at his monitor. An awkward silence ensued as everyone else studiously looked at their computers.

Or perhaps the boss has met some possible customers from Singapore, Taiwan, or China at one of the trade shows and wants to send them information. I hear those names bandied about quite often in the office but whenever I ask about it everyone gets oddly quiet or makes a joke about international sales. Why they would keep that information from me I have no idea. Do they really think I haven’t figured out what is going on and how much they ‘value’ me?

At least they should take the time to think up a lie that’s a little more believable. Perhaps something along the lines of, ‘one of our large customers is thinking of selling our products through their subsidiary in the US and need the English language data for the overseas personal.’ There, that took about thirty seconds of thinking and sounds logical, something that I could easily believe.

Oh well. The more they keep me out of the loop the more they lose out on the benefits/services I can provide. Our paths are diverging anyways but until my last day I will do my best despite the forces against me.

Only in Japan.

Here I go again…

admin — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 03:06:07 +0000

‘Crap, this place won’t work either’ I thought to myself trying to extract my leg from the knee deep snow. From the path it had looked like a good spot, flat, hidden from view and out of the wind. It was the third place I had tried and it was the third miss. The snow was slowly but surely seeping through my shoes and it was getting to be late afternoon but I had yet to find a place for my tent. I wasn’t worried but wondering where I was going to sleep for the night was keeping me from fully enjoying the village around me.

My day had started many hours and hundreds of kilometers away in the city of Gero, a place known for wonderful hot springs. My original plan was to wake up around 5am to catch a quick soak in the natural spring next to the river but when I was forced into consciousness by my alarm the sound of steady rain pitter pattering against my tent drove me back to sleep. After all, taking a bath in the rain surrounded by snow without a roof over my head was probably not the smartest of ideas.

When once again my consciousness had returned the rain had been reduced to an occasional mist making it much easier to drag my tent under a nearby bridge and pack it away. Still groggy from a night on the cold hard ground I checked my watch and realized that if I didn’t want to wait for 3 hours to catch the next local train I would have to hustle a bit. I was on a budget and didn’t have the luxury of taking the express train to my next destination, though in a pinch hitchhiking would have been just as good. Out in the middle of nowhere with piles of snow all around people are usually pretty willing to pick up a stranger and help them along.

The train ride flashed by in what seemed a blink of the eye. My eyes were glued to the scenery that rolled past the windows showing me a constant view of a wooded valley with a deep blue-green river winding through it. I was so captured by the scene that I couldn’t sit down and instead paced from side to side in the car trying to catch the best view munching on a cold apple pie and sipping some hot Boss coffee.

At Takayama, my next stop, I arrived just in time to catch the bus headed to my final destination, the classical village of Shirakawago. I really can’t describe the scenery as the bus moved from one mountain pass and another because my stamina failed me and I fell asleep. The few glimpses I did have from half closed eyes were gorgeous but not breathtaking enough to rouse me from my stupor.

I stepped off the bus into the rain I thought I had left behind in Gero. My heavy pack was beginning to chafe so I dropped it at the local information office(paying them 300 yen for the service, something I wish all train stations in Japan offered) extracting my bright yellow raincoat for an extra layer of protection. For a moment as I mixed with the crowd outside I thought I had somehow gotten lost and wound up in China because there was a definite ratio of at least 4 Chinese people to any other nationality.

The village was made up of a number of structures built in the traditional fashion with no nails, straw roofs, and huge wooden pillars, all quite impressive. Snow that clung to the buildings occasionally broke off and tumbled to the ground in muffled thuds giving credence to the signs posted warning people of falling snow. The steady rain slowly gave way to snow as the temperature dropped and then finally to clear (but cloudy) weather.

As I wandered between the buildings and up small stone covered streets my eye was always on the lookout for someplace to pitch my tent. When I’m on these kind of trips my first goal is always to find my ‘home’ for the night and then go about enjoying the sights around me but this place was not making things easy. When they say mountain villages are buried in snow they really mean it! Even at the shrine stepping of the path (which was just snow hardened from people walking over it) meant stepping into at least a foot of snow.

I took respite in a small delicious smelling udon (buckwheat noodle) restaurant to warm my bones and pass some time. A historical village is an interesting place but it only has so much to look at before it palls and I had many hours before the sun set and I retired to my tent. With my book in hand and a large picture window showing a snowy mountain village in front of me I settled into a nice hot meal. The broth was heavy with flavor and the big bowl of rice filled in the corners of my stomach nicely.

Before long though it was once again time to begin my search for a place to stay. I rejected the idea of staying at a Japanese inn without a thought. The cost was prohibitive and that wasn’t the experience I wanted. This was a camping trip and gosh-darnit I was going to camp. I was working my way up the main street when suddenly a small road to my left caught my attention.

A man was mounting one of those giant snow yellow snow plows, the ones with a heated cabin and a shovel the size of a lane of traffic. Approaching the machine to ask where might be a good place to camp I looked around and saw that the area around me was perfect. It was out of sight, out of the wind and afforded me a great view of the valley, not to mention it wasn’t in a few feet of snow.

I hollered to him through the window and got a puzzled look in reply. He opened the door and looked at me expectantly. ‘Excuse me, I have a really strange question. I am looking for a place to pitch my tent, would this parking lot be okay?’ He blinked once, twice, three times and then replied, ‘That’s a good question. This is a public space so I’d have to ask someone.’ He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number but somewhere deep in my heart I knew what the answer was going to be. A foreigner in a little town asking to camp, too many variables for a Japanese person in authority to say ‘yes‘ to.

A minute later he hung up the phone and looked at me. ‘You won’t use fire?’ he asked with a serious look. ‘No, not at all.’ Fire? I didn’t even have a lighter with me. ‘Then go ahead, just make sure it is out of site and you clean up after yourself.’ ‘Wow, thanks a bunch!’

Now I had a place to stay and could get down to actually enjoying my surroundings but unfortunately it was beginning to get dark and the temperature was steadily decreasing. I made a few laps around the city shivering in the cold then finally gave in and headed to a place I planned to spend a few hours before tucking myself into my sleeping bag, a local hot spring.

I cannot even begin to describe what it feels like to submerge yourself into a giant pool of hot water after spending all day in the cold. The chill that had found its way deep into my bones was thawed bit by bit as I looked through the bamboo slats protecting the baths privacy onto a moonlit river. A cool breeze mixed with the rising steam creating an interesting sensation on my face and a bit of pleasant conversation from a fellow traveler helped to pass the time.

My stomach let me know it was time to eat and so I stared at a sign leading to the hot springs restaurant contemplating, do I eat here or go grab some convenience store food? A selection of hot dished and a place to sit won out over the slight savings that might be had and I settled down to a plate of curry rice. My book was engaging and the room comfortable but after a while they gently informed me that the restaurant would be closing shortly but I could sit in an adjoining room if I wanted. I decided to take my leave despite the frigid temperatures outside.

The streets were dark and deserted. Only an occasional car, usually a member of the safety patrol with a rotating red light on the top of their vehicle made its way through the village. An almost unearthly quite had settled on the city and the moon shone brightly through an occasional break in the clouds creating deep shadows in the snow. I sat (or rather crouched) on a walking bridge that spanned the river and took a deep breath.

Fresh water bubbled steadily below me, mountains grew all around me, clouds moved endlessly above me, nature was singing its song. This escape from the daily routine, throwing myself into a exciting challenge that when people hear about they shake their heads, I live for things like that.

The cold soon found its way through my layers of clothing and the call of sleep could no longer be ignored. My tent was where I had left it, standing and waiting to receive its guest for the night. After one last look around, I kneeled down and crawled in. My sleeping back was chilly but quickly warmed as I zipped myself in leaving only my face exposed. Today had been a good day, a full day, an interesting day, were my last thoughts as I drifted off into sleep.

Procedure…A-B-C, 1-2-3

admin — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 01:53:59 +0000

What I don't have anymore

‘Excuse me, I seem to have lost something,‘ I said gaining the attention of a station attendant standing next to a ticket window. ‘Just a few minutes ago my iPod fell from my pocket and I was wondering if someone stopped by here and dropped it off.’ Kyoto station at 8am in the morning recovering from a bad night of sleep, a fight with my girlfriend and the beginnings of a cold on my way to work, I knew it wasn’t going to be a good day.

She stared at me for just a moment, leaned through the ticket window and began to confer with a coworker. A feeling of hope began to slowly make its way up from my stomach to the corners of my mouth, maybe someone had seen it on the ground and handed it to this attendant as they exited the station, just maybe.

As she rummaged on the other side of the window just out of sight I began to smile but just then as things were looking good I was hit hard in the face with the Japanese procedural mindset.

Her hand came out with a sheet of paper. ‘The lost and found office can be found using this map’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘Please inquire there about your lost item.’ ‘But it was only a minute ago and this is the closest window…’ I pleaded. ‘Can’t you just check?’

She gave me a puzzled look as if the words coming out of my mouth were in a different language, perhaps English. ‘I’m sorry but please go to the office on the map and ask about your lost item.’

Getting to the office was an adventure in itself. Upon trying to leave the gates on the lower floor via the manned gate(and thus avoiding a 120yen cost to come back in) the grim looking man behind the window gave me the third degree.

‘Why exactly do you have to leave the station without using your ticket?’ he said with serious eyes. ‘I just lost something a few minutes ago and need to go to the lost and found office to report it’ I said showing him the map from the other attendant. He looked me up and down. Once, twice, three times. Then he looked at the paper and studied it for a moment.

‘Okay’ he said begrudgingly putting his hanko (seal) on the ticket as well as signing it. He gave me one more hard look but I brushed it off as I went in search of the office.

It took me a while but I finally found it. The lost and found office was a single door hidden down a side street next to a hotel only noticeable because of small sign that said ‘lost and found.’ Total time from first inquiry to office, twelve minutes. Inside was a small office with an old straight faced man sitting behind a receptionist-like desk. To one side sat a younger man who was concentrating on his phone conversation. It was very, very, quiet.

‘Yes,’ the employee said to me looking away from his computer. ‘Excuse me but just a few minutes ago my iPod fell from my pocket I was wondering…’ ‘What color was it’ he said cutting me off in mid sentence. ‘Errr, silver and black’ I answered just a little bit shocked. ‘Where did you lose it.’ ‘On the staircase next to the Nara line’ I stuttered.

‘One moment.’ He picked up his phone and dialed a number. ‘….we have someone here who lost an iPod, do you have anything at your booth? No, okay.’ He dialed another number. ‘….yeah, we have someone here who lost an iPod. What? No? Okay.’

‘I am very sorry but no one has left an iPod’ he said in a deadpan voice eyes searching for something. His hand reached out and picked up a pad of paper. ‘Please fill this out with information about your lost item.’ He turned back to his computer.

I took a moment to fill out the paper. Name, description of lost item, phone number. I struggled to drag his attention away from the computer. ‘Is this enough.’ He glanced at the paper, ‘Yes. If anything comes in we will contact you, if not…’

It was only when I exited the office that it dawned on me. The phone calls he had made had been to the two ticket windows I had been to. Instead of just checking when I asked they had waited for a phone call from this office. I had walked back and forth across the station and was now late for work (not to mention not having my iPod) just to satisfy the procedure that lost and found inquiries must come from the lost and found office.

Thirty seconds of checking and asking turned into thirty minutes of rigmarole. In the time the first attendant had spent searching for a map to the lost and found office they could have asked and found out.

Only in Japan.

Check please!

admin — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 14:05:51 +0000

Time to call it quits like these leaves

Something dawned on me as I sat staring at my computer at work last week. How it had slipped my mind after thinking about it so much I don’t know but it did. I pulled out my wallet to check the date on my Japanese green card and sure enough I had missed it, my five year anniversary of coming to Japan. I let out a sharp laugh causing my coworkers to look up. ‘Is everything okay?’ one asked with a puzzled face.

‘Yes. I just realized that yesterday was my five year anniversary of coming to Japan’ I replied shaking my head. ‘Wow…that’s amazing…’ she said with a half-smile pausing about 10 seconds before returning to work.

I decided that it would be pointless to mention that I had been coming to this company for four years and working for them directly for two. It might have elicited another thoughtful ‘amazing’ but I didn’t want to overexcite her.

Five years. I have lived in Japan for five years. Saying that out loud feels so weird. When I think about those five years I wonder where the time has gone.

It’s strange because I still remember clearly the feeling of ‘oh man, what am I doing?’ I had as I looked out of the window of my plane as it descended into Kansai airport with the evening sun. It’s not a ‘just yesterday’ memory but it’s not a ‘back in the day’ one either.

I originally came here only to spend a year or two getting to know the country and do some traveling. It was a new challenge to sharpen my ‘edge.’ My mom had wanted me back much sooner then that. It took her two or three years to stop asking ‘when are you coming back home?’

Japan is a place that can pull you in and keep you, like quicksand.

Despite all the crap I give this country it is an easy place to live. If you can ignore/endure/diffuse the racism around you this place is a paradise. It is safe, fun, and the people are some of the most hospitable in the world.

You have to be very careful to know when it is time to get out because if you miss that window of opportunity, well, you’re stuck. For some people that’s a good thing, for some people it’s not.

The key to making this place your home is either to have low ambitions or very focused ones. If you don’t fit into either of those categories you’d better set an end date or soon you will find your head spinning, staring into a mirror at the first few strands of grey hair wondering what the heck happened.

I stood up and walked to the front of my company where we have a large window that overlooks the street and gives a good view of the neighborhood. Staring out the window into the reflected light of yet another setting sun I decided to dig my heels in and stop the uncontrolled flow of time.

I have goals I wish to accomplish, things I wish to experience and places to go. Unfortunately these things cannot be accomplished in Japan which means I have to pull myself out of the quicksand. That won’t be easy, especially with how deep I am already in. My window of opportunity is closing and I can feel it in my bones.

Five years. That’s a long time.

I turned around and walked back to my desk. My coworkers were still staring intently at their computers thinking only about what bit of work they had to do next.

Me I had a little more on my mind.

It’s time to move on.

Only in Japan.

Anchors away!

admin — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 03:46:26 +0000

Not this Thanksgiving

How do you feel about Thanksgiving? How do you feel about Independence Day? What do you think about Easter, Memorial Day, Labor Day, even Christmas? What goes through your mind those days and weeks before they arrive? Do you even notice them as they pass by or are they just another date on the calendar?

There are markers for each holiday created by strong memories and linked to our surroundings. Things like what we experienced as children and can not be forgotten (for better or worse), anchors that tell us how to feel and what we should do.

For Thanksgiving it is the hordes of frozen turkeys in the supermarket, the plans for a big family dinner, knowing for the next few days it’s going to be leftover meat, stuffing and cranberries.

For Christmas it’s the snow (at least being very cold), Christmas music in the mall as I rush to buy presents, the family sitting on the couch listening to the Christmas story accented by crackles and pops from a blazing fire.

For the 4th of July it’s the last giant signs on the highway advertising cheap fireworks, stocking up on brats and burgers, and patriotic music blaring from loudspeakers as we all stare into the sky waiting for the finale.

But what do you do when you are pulled from those surroundings that provided you with these anchors? This is something that, after living in Japan for five years, I have begun to think about quite a bit.

Take Thanksgiving the other day. The only reason I remembered was because of a Facebook game (curse you Mafia Wars!). Then when the day arrived it felt like something was missing. I got together with some friends, we said Happy Thanksgiving, had a big dinner, but it was like drinking flat coke.

Around me were none of those things that would cue me in to the fact a special day was coming. No Turkey, no Black Friday advertisements, no plans for the whole family (or even a small part of it) to get together. So when the day finally arrived, it was just that, another day.

Christmas is coming up fast. Around me are the lights, the music, the gaiety, but it is like everything is being played to a different beat and I just can’t quite catch on. That emotional buildup that you get in the weeks leading up to the 24th (or 25th) just isn’t there. Sure everyone here is looking forward to eating Christmas cake and maybe exchanging presents but it just isn’t the same.

Holidays are important to us (whether we admit it or not). They mark a special day, something to be remembered, something to be celebrated, and when the feeling and excitement surrounding them fade we lose something. They become just another day in the procession of time marked only by the rising and setting of the sun.

Now, how to drop new anchors into the flow of time away from where it all began to bring those homeland holidays back to life? That’s a good question.

Only in Japan.

Technorati claim check

admin — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 01:45:44 +0000

QCJJWMFAZ555

Just a little bit more then them…

admin — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 13:52:44 +0000

Sometimes it's like walking up a mountain

Persistence. Here in Japan it is an essential quality and those without it quickly leave (or are somehow by buffered from reality by an unknown force and stay on for years blissfully unawares). I’m not talking about the persistence a tourist needs to find an out of the way temple or a restaurant with English menus. I am talking about the amount necessary to live here, the grit to get through the mazes we find ourselves in, the inner fire that blasts through the unexplainable barriers thrown up in front of us, you know, persistence.

‘What exactly do you mean there is no sake brewery here?’ I inquired politely to the receptionist at the Gekkeikan Sake Museum. She had just finished explaining that, yes, while I might (and she seemed very tentative about that) work for an alcohol magazine they didn’t make any sake here, it was just a museum and there was no way to see a factory. I looked through the open doors leading out into a courtyard and to what I knew was a sake brewery.

‘Are you sure about that? If you don’t make it here then where do you make it?’

A complex look crossed her face as she glanced at her coworker. ‘Please wait for a moment at the gift store while I get somebody to answer your question.’ That somebody turned out to be the assistant manager of the museum who took an hour and half out of his day to give me a personal tour of the brewery (which was in the process of making very high grade sake which I got a chance to taste).

‘I’m very sorry but we do not have any more rooms’ the friendly looking owner of a Japanese inn answered from the half open door. ‘Really, are you sure?’ I had just walked 50+km and the blisters that had formed were making walking very painful. The last seven places had all been full. ‘Yes, I am very sorry.’

‘Are you really sure about that? Anything would be fine,’ I asked again.

He took one more look at me and ducked back into the building. I heard a terse hushed conversation between a man and a woman for about a minute then he reemerged. ‘There is a room but it does not have air conditioning. We can give it to you for a discounted rate. Is that okay?’

‘So let me get this right. You want to cut my pay by 30% AND have me work the same amount of time AND starting at the end of this month?’ I choked. ‘Yes, that is what we would like,’ the financial guy at my company chirped looking slightly nervous but generally satisfied with himself.

‘You have got to be kidding,’ I answered and let it sit. He must have considered the matter settled because that next week when I came back with a counter-offer he was quite surprised.

‘I will take the 30% pay cut but you will need to cut my work time by the same amount and that it will start next month’ I stated. ‘OR, I will take a 10% cut and work the same hours.

‘But, but, that is not realistic. If we cut your hours by that amount you will only be part time, and part time workers make XXXXX (about a 70% cut from my pay at that point). It’s impossible! And we can’t afford just a 10% cut.’

I let it sit for about another week and a half.

‘Well, what is it going to be?’ I asked politely a few days before the start of a new pay period.

The financial guy looked startled, almost like a deer in the headlights. I don’t think he had ever been confronted with someone who didn’t just cave in, someone with a spine and a willingness to go for broke (no pun intended).

‘Uh, I guess we will go for the 30% cut of time and pay starting after next month’ he stuttered.

‘Good.’ Or at least as good as I could get it.

It takes a willingness to last just a little bit longer then they do. An inner strength to ask just one more question or try one more thing before shaking your head and walking away. You may be surprised with the result.

Only in Japan.

Now that’s a first…

admin — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 11:46:55 +0000

I’ve seen a lot of strange things on Japanese trains these past five years. Drunks passed out on the benches, old women (and I do mean old) dressed in school girl uniforms, ‘train parties’ where people spend hours riding around while drinking, just to name a few. But this evening as I rode home on a train packed with people going to and from viewing fall leaves I happened to notice something that made me pause and think, ‘well, that’s a first.’

My girlfriend, who was dressed is a beautiful kimono, was leaning up against a wall due to a lack of seats and I was standing face to face with her, eyes looking out the window. We were talking about this and that making plans for what to do over the next few days when I did a casual once-over of the train.

Now, normally as we scan a room our eyes hesitate briefly on things of interest, things in motion, things out of the ordinary, before returning to our main subject of interest (in this case my girlfriend) but as I glanced at the high school boy seated to our right I could not refocus my attention.

The young boy was staring intently at his cell phone with headphones securely jacked in his ears. There was something about what he was looking at that seemed very familiar but was too blurry to make out. The motion, the colors, something, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Then suddenly it snapped in to focus and I couldn’t believe it what it was.

I gestured for my girlfriend to take a look and her face turned beet red. I had to look away because I was working hard to stifle a series of hearty laughs. She couldn’t tear her eyes away or believe what she was seeing.

The kid was watching porn (pr0n to some of you).

I don’t mean the soft-core stuff you can easily get in Japan that has an annoying blurry patch over everything interesting (boo mozaiku!), but the hard-core stuff you find in porn stores in the U.S.

As we stood there, stations passing one by one, he watched not one, not two, but three clips, returning to the first one just before getting off (the train). The whole time an old lady sitting beside him didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to.

I offered the now empty seat to my girlfriend but first checked to see if it was clean. She stifled a laugh and we decided it would be better to wait for another bench to open up.

Definitely a first.

Only in Japan.