Newsgroups: rec.travel
Subject: A Travel Adventure Series: #05
From: earlj@mdcbbs.com
Date: 6 Apr 92 11:32:01 GMT
Organization: M&E (Division of EDS), Cypress CA
Nntp-Posting-User: earlj

             <<< NOTES::NOTES$DISK:[NOTES$LIBRARY]SOAPBOX.NOTE;1 >>>
                            -< Soapbox Conference >-
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Note 22.49                     For Travel Only...                      49 of 369
BBS::EARLJ "Earl Yin Jew MDC M&E-SWEng"              77 lines  26-JUL-1989 17:15
                         -< A Not-So-Great Pretender >-
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    A reader requested that I sprinkle in a few of my personal experiences. 
    This one's for those vicarious others like myself.

    I began to panic the day before I would leave Japan.  I wanted to see
    more of Tokyo without going crazy.  When you can't speak or read
    japanese, going somewhere means getting lost and trying to get back. 
    Total anxiety !!  So early Sunday morning, I squashed my ego and signed
    up for two tours.  Starving as usual, I stumbled into a traditional
    Japanese restaurant.  With attentive charm and sensuous grace, the
    hostess greeted me in japanese with a smile and a bow; I silently did
    the same and caught myself on weakening knees.  My dark-side suggested
    she was likewise thrilled at meeting me; reality told me it was her
    job.

    I was led to a hard black lacquered table with two chairs and flowers. 
    The decor was organic, spacious, and spiced with artifacts of feudal
    Japan; panels of rough-sawn cedar lined each scented wall.  They only
    offered one breakfast combination so I didn't need to fuss over a
    japanese-only menu.  Briefly, the service began.  The tea and then the
    food was presented in several "ceremonies" as it appeared to me.

    Seemingly, each waitress spoke and moved with eloquent, orchestrated
    precision.  Each japanese word, each savory dish, had its proper time
    and place.  I couldn't remember when tea, miso soup, and rice ever
    tasted this good.  Or was it being so well served that heightened their
    flavors ?  The small servings of fish, chicken, and pickled vegetables
    were tidbits of edible art, perfectly composed.  The sights, scents,
    sounds, tastes and other sensations brought me to a new awareness, a
    presence of mind unrealized in America.  This was a different kind of
    enjoyment, a different way of life.

    Minutes after most of the service, a waitress started using english. 
    My heart stopped; I was discovered.  Pretending to be "Japanese"
    eventually gives me away.  Recovering, I asked her "How did you know I
    was an American ?"  She almost giggled, bowed and left.  How did she
    know ?
    
    From my broken reverie, I began to observe the other patrons.  A large
    table with a dozen Japanese businessmen (wearing ties on Sunday) were
    openly oblivious of the service as they ate.  Beside them, six young
    women in matching blouses and skirts did the same, though one noticed
    me watching them and mumbled something.  In unison, all six glanced my
    way and giggled as I forced an embarassed smile.  Crap !!  Discovered
    again ?  I wanted to die.

    I ate while pitying myself in disgust, then fixedly wrote in my
    Daytimer.  When I asked for the check, she told me it had been paid. 
    What ?!  The six women upon leaving also paid for mine !!  I was
    shocked; it was very un-Japanese.  Thanking each waitress in english, I
    rushed out to find the Generous 6.

    I soon spied them waiting at a bus stop.  When they saw me coming you
    would think I was Godzilla, they nearly died.  In my finest english, I
    announced "Thank you for paying for my breakfast.  It was very good and
    very special.  Is there anything I can do for any of you ?"  The
    silence among the smiling stares lasted forever.  My knees rebuckled as
    my dark-side suggested obscene possibilities.  In meek and broken
    english, the boldest of them complimented me on my perfect use of
    english.  I couldn't understand the rest in japanese, but their actions
    decisively urged my autograph.

    My laughter was impulsive; I stopped when I noticed how it hurt them. 
    Who did they think I was ?  Wordlessly, I pulled six MDC business cards
    from my Daytimer.  Signing the back, I presented a card to each deluded
    "StarGazer".  Then I smiled and walked away.  I hope I resembled some
    actor or rock musician, and not their version of Charles Manson.  By
    now they know that I'm just an American imposter.

    The tours were wonderful, informative, time-efficient, and a real
    bargain.  Don't pass up these deals unless you have a personal guide. 
    Without anxiety, I saw many places and cherished the tour guide's
    english.  I now have well founded respect for the Japanese culture. 
    The next day, I concluded my three days in Japan.  Fourteen more days
    of foot-loose and fancy-free madness to go.  Next stop, Hong Kong by
    way of Seoul and Taipei.

    earlj