Tales from Tokyo

    In ’97 I was working for a company based out of Houston called Viscotek.  At that time, I was doing technical work for them; installing viscometers at sites all over the world.  They had a big contract with Sumitomo Chemical for a robotic installation and I spent months getting ready for it:  Training the robotic arm from Zymark to put the samples into solution and then feed it to Viscotek’s patented viscometer.  Finally, the day came to fly out to Japan and install the device.  The irony that this American guy was flying to Japan to install a robotic testing device was not lost on me.

----------Part I----------------------

When I would do domestic installations, I mostly made the travel arrangements myself (Viscotek was a small, family owned company) and would wind up staying at a Red Roof Inn or some other budget place.  When travelling internationally though, our local distributor would take care of everything.  Imagine my surprise when the taxi that I took from the airport in Tokyo dropped me off at a 5 star luxury hotel just outside of Tokyo Disneyland.  There were so many servants everywhere, I was overwhelmed. When I was finally alone in my super fancy hotel room, it took me an hour just to figure out what was going on with the toilet (it had a remote control that controlled the temperature of the seat, the orientation, forcefulness, and temperature of the built in bidet).  Whenever I flew internationally for work, I always made an effort to get out and take advantage of the exotic location despite jet lag and the impending work.  So, I went out to explore the area a bit that first night.

      I realized pretty quickly that, although the area was touristy, it was mostly for Japanese tourists and, once I left the hotel, there were not many English signs at all and my usual ability to navigate in foreign countries was severely curtailed because the language and culture were so completely different.  I wanted to eat outside of the hotel, so I picked a traveler’s dive near the local train station thinking I could navigate its menu and that they would likely speak some English there.  Wrong on both counts.  I sat at a long counter against a wall for solo travelers, but my waiter spoke no English.  I found a picture of a beer on a wall and pointed to that.  Then I pointed to a few things on the menu based on price and watched my waiter’s face carefully to see if I was ordering anything crazy.  He just nodded as I pointed and was pretty stoic.  I’m a pretty adventurous eater so I wasn’t too worried but the whole thing felt surreal and risky in some way.  The waiter brought me my food pretty efficiently and I started trying out all the unknowns (I didn’t recognize anything either before or after I put it in my mouth but I’m pretty sure there were more radishes than I care for) and washing it down with sips of beer.  I was pretty pleased with my little adventure.  Meanwhile, I noticed this ancient little Japanese businessman a few seat down from me engaging the waiter in an intense conversation and they both looked over at me several times.

            Suddenly a bottle of French white wine and two wine glasses appeared, and the old Japanese guy was gesturing me to slide on over so we could share the wine.  Gamely, I slid over, clinked glasses and quickly discovered he knew only a few words in English.  We tried to communicate, but we didn’t make much headway.  I felt we were two lonely guys eating alone on the road and, perhaps, he was feeling like a host on account of my obvious foreign-ness.  At one point, when we were miming and speaking broken English to each other, I made an inquiry as to why he was being so outgoing with me.  He then looked very serious and said “I…” mimed shooting a machine gun and sputtered “puhpuhpuh” to emphasize the point.. “you!”  Somehow, what he meant was perfectly clear to me even as thoughts of him kidnapping me in order to kill me in some back alley also went through my head.  He had killed some Americans in World War Two and I was acting as a proxy for Americans he had done bad things to.  Maybe he was atoning or something.

            He picked up the tab, which didn’t really bother me at all and asked where I was staying.  I named the fancy hotel that was only two blocks away and he nodded in approval.  He somehow indicated that he knew there was nice bar on the top floor, and we set off together to check it out.  When he stood, he might have been even shorter than when he was seated.  I’m guessing he was maybe 75 years old and 4 foot 11.  I was 27, 5 foot 11 (in those shoes anyway) and I imagine we appeared quite the pair when we showed up at that luxury hotel’s swanky bar.  My host eagerly asked me “Cognac – you like?”  I laughed and said “Do I like Cognac? Of course I do – I’m half French!”  This delighted my host and we now had wait staff that spoke both languages so we used them in our efforts to communicate when we could.  I don’t recall many particulars, but I remember a slight feeling of anxiety or guilt creeping up on me, like I was building a debt up that could never be repaid.  We exchanged business cards (a big thing in the 90’s and an even bigger thing in Asia in the 90’s).  Eventually we wound down and he asked to see my room.

            Of course, I had some strange thoughts at that request.  I was thinking about cultural sensitivity.  I was thinking about possibly missing some signs.  I was thinking about over-reacting.  I trusted my gut and it told me that it was important to my buddy that this foreigner-guy was being treated with respect and had a nice room.   He actually inspected the room and then we bowed, shook hands, and he left.  I never could decipher his business card and never saw him again, but, oddly enough, I kind of carry him around inside – a precious memory that informs who I am today somehow.

-----------------Part II------------------

The next morning, Sumitomo Chemical picked me up at the hotel and drove me to their factory.  They had unpacked the robotic arm, the viscometer and all of the attendant pieces & parts.  It was an intimidating site, but I was ready: I knew the entire set up inside and out.  All of the workers were dressed alike in bright blue coveralls and they all gathered around me and basically watched me do the setup while talking to each other in Japanese.  It occurred to me that this robotic set up might cost a few of them their job.  At one point, I looked up from my work and saw about 8 grown men circled around my work bench with their arms folded looking at me.  They weren’t intimidating or threatening, they just looked like an alien from outer space had just landed in their midst and how could they do anything other than stare? 

            At one point a buzzer sounded and I heard one person say, “Break time”.  Clearly they said it in English so I would understand.  I thought with relief, finally they will leave me in peace, and I can do some of the harder parts done in quiet.  They continued to stand there, and I continued to work, and it grew increasingly awkward.  Someone finally said, “Mr. Kenneth, it is break time!”  I said, “I know – go take your break!”  I looked up and then finally read the situation for what it was.  They all wanted to take their break and I was ruining it for them because they would not take a break if I was still working.  Feeling like a culturally illiterate lout, I put down my tools and said “Okay, let’s take break!”  The relief in the room was palpable and I knew I had made the right move.

        During the set up, I had realized that something wasn’t right with the A/D board in the PC that ran the entire show (A/D boards takes Analog signal inputs and translates them to Digital signal outputs).  I kept an eye on the clock and when the time difference finally permitted, I said I needed to call Houston (“Houston, we have a problem”).  My buddy Billy, the computer guy back in Houston, calmed me down and had me go through the dip switches on the A/D board systematically until we had it right. Then I plugged everything in and when ran a sample test.  The blue overall guys were impressed.  I hope they were unionized and held onto their jobs.