Before I start let me say "Gomen Nasai", which means "I'm sorry". It's been a while since my last post. I have two reasons for this and neither of them is very good. Reason number one, it's been raining and gross here for the last couple of days - not very conducive to adventuring. Second, I think culture shock set in at some point. I haven't wanted to do much of anything. I haven't even wanted to leave my apartment. Happily, I am better now so you can expect that I'll be posting more regularly.
It had been raining for what seemed like a week. It was really only a couple of days but when you're alone in your apartment with no car that's plenty long enough. I woke up at about six o'clock in the morning to the distinct pebbles-on-wet-cement sound of rain hitting my windows. I turned over and went back to sleep.
Later that morning, the sky was still dark and drear and the air was so thick I couldn't see the buildings on the other side of the bay, but at least it had stopped raining - mostly. I called Heather and asked her to go exploring with me. She agreed.
"Okay then, I'll come over round about now-ish and we'll leave when I get there."
She laughed at me. People do that to me a lot - laugh when I'm not trying to be funny. I don't know why.
I should have taken the hint that this was a bad idea when I had to open my umbrella on the way to her house. It wasn't raining much, I rationalized, just sprinkling. No big deal.
Well by the time I had climbed the stairs to her apartment it was well and truly pouring. The rain here has a strange way of going from drips to buckets in the space of a breath. Frequently it goes back again just as quickly. We waited around for ten minutes or so and left, carrying, but not needing to open, our umbrellas.
During my stuck-in-the-house time I had noticed that my explorations stayed within a pretty small area. Aside from the train ride to Kamakura I had never strayed more than five or six blocks in any direction from the main gate. Obviously, this needed to change.
We wandered left out of Womble gate, and walked as close as we could to the edge of the sea. The walkway was pretty. Palm trees lined one side and grew up from the median. Even on such a drippy day they managed to look picturesque. But as per usual in Japan, we were caught in the middle of an odd juxtaposition. To our right, the palm trees swayed. To our left, a chain link fence reared up, blocking off the ocean and the shipping terminals. We speculated at the existence of twenty or more lines of little Nissan pickup trucks. Most were white, with the occasional gray-silver thrown in for good measure. All the steering wheals were American-style - installed on the left side of the car. We figured they would be shipped out to the states.
Part way through the walk we opened our umbrellas. It wasn't raining very hard, but the sky was definitely spitting. Not too long after that, Heather pointed across the road at a strange little shack-ten. It was built out of blue tarps strung on ropes between what might once have been some sort of monument. She had been this way the other day and seen the owner of the place, a man out watering the potted plants he kept on the sidewalk.
"I can't believe the police don't kick him out." She said.
He was the first homeless person either of us had seen since coming to Japan.
We found another of those uniquely Japanese shopping centers – part grocery store – part gift shop and a whole second floor of clothes and shoes. We went in, and I learned a little something about Japan.
Americans don’t know customer service. They don’t know what it feels like, what it looks like. If customer service beat up an American and stole his wallet he would look around and say – “hey, who was that guy?” A Japanese man could give the police a full description along with customer service’s telephone number and home address.
You think I’m exaggerating? Watch.
We stop because I see the most amazing Christmas present for my father. (sorry dad, no hints) As soon as we set foot in the open area belonging to the store both sales women bow and greet us. I pick up the thing that caught my eye and bring it to the woman behind the counter. She bows again and asks me if it is going to be a present. I say yes. She proceeds to wrap it – no extra charge. She then points to several kinds of papers under glass on the counter. I pick one I like and she adds this to the wrapped object. She puts the package in a bag. Then, asks a question I can’t understand. She makes a finger walking motion and then a car driving motion. I tell her we’re walking. She puts a plastic sleeve over the paper shopping bag so that neither the bag nor the package will get wet. I thank her. She thanks me. We exchange bows. As we leave both women bow and thank us for visiting.
That, my American friends, is customer service.
Later, as we walked home in the pouring rain we saw two men in security guard uniforms directing traffic in front of a convenience store. Stores hire people like this to stand in the rain and make sure the customers get in and out of the parking lot safely.
That is customer service.
We were soaked by the time we got home. My shoes actually squished with every step. I could feel water between my toes.
The present I bought? Completely dry.
I don’t know if the Macy’s motto was inspired by a business trip to Japan, but it might have been. I leave you with that little wisdom, “Be everywhere, do everything, and never fail to astonish the customer.”