Firefly in Japan

I'd been in Japan for 2 days now. I had more-or-less adjusted to my surroundings, although I was still stunned that I had actually made it to Japan. For 2 days, armed with my vocabulary of 10 words that allowed me to start conversations, but desperately unable to continue or finish them, I had awkwardly been exploring the area near my tiny hotel and it's surroundings. I was staying in an area far from any big city, so there were no McDonalds, Starbucks or familiar trappings of Western Civilisation - it was me, and the locals.

Full immersion in remote Tokyo was just fine with me. I came to Japan to experience Japan, I had no desire at all to hang out at Burger King. However, I did need to find a job. This meant submitting my resume to employers around Tokyo. This also meant I needed to be contactable. I realised I had to get a mobile phone. My head was tingling at the challenge of going to a big city and get a mobile phone.

I woke up early on the third day filled with determination and with butterflies in my stomach. My clock read 8:18am. The crickets chirped continuously outside my window. The hot, muggy Tokyo summer oozed in through the window. I stood on my bed and managed to get dressed - no small feat considering my hotel room was only slightly larger than the bed itself. I locked and carefully checked the door, and spun around. I held back a cry of joy. This is the most incredible moment of traveling. Standing outside your hotel room with $200, your hotel key in your pocket, and unlimited possibilities and adventures just waiting to be discovered.

I waved to Gen, the friendly old guy who ran the hotel, he smiled back. I walked out the door, and then paused. I turned around and walked back inside.

"Hey Gen, which way's the station?" I asked.

Gen held up an arm, and pointed. "Go under the bridge. Then over a bridge. Then turn right."

"Thanks Gen!" I walked about 50 meters, and became lost. I exercised my terrible Japanese, and harassed various pedestrians.

"Sumimasen, eki ha doko desu ka?" (Excuse me, where is the station?)

Finally I arrived at the station. I walked up to the ticket gate, and asked the train guy for advice.

"Sumimasen... um.... I'm looking for a big city, pretty close to here. Where should I go?" I asked him.

"Ettooo..... Wheshoudaigo?" He repeated with a confused look on his face.

I realised I had been speaking too quickly. I slowed right down.

"Big city. Close to here. BIGGGGGGG CITY!" I gestured by opening up my arms. "Close to here." I pointed to the ground.

He looked at me with dim understanding. "We know?"

"What? You know?" I repeated, confused.

"We know. Big City." He said in slow heavily accented English.

"Great, so can you tell me, "big city", please?" I asked politely.

"We know." He looked at me again.

"I don't understand."

He gave me a look filled with patience. He brought out a map from under his desk, and pointed to a city. It said "Ueno."

"Ohhh Ueno! I get it. Ok thank you. Which platform?"

"Platform Number 1." He said.

I thanked him, and went up to platform 1. I got onto the train, and cruised into Ueno.

Ueno is an old industrial city, filled with old buildings, old shops and odd smells. Not the classiest area of Tokyo, but an interesting place to spend some time or do some shopping.

I spilled out of the train, and took the first exit. I was surrounded by carts, stalls and old Japanese men selling all manner of fake goods and general crap. I waded through, and finally found a mobile phone shop. Excellent.

I walked inside, and the 3 Japanese people working in the shop saw me, and froze. I caught a glimpse of their faces, and I saw pure terror in their eyes. I spun around, expecting to see Godzilla towering over the mobile phone shop, but there was nothing there. I turned back, and they had composed themselves a little bit. Odd, I thought.

I began browsing around the shop, looking at all the different mobile phones, which were lightyears ahead of any Australian offering. I occasionally looked over at the 3 Japanese who had withdrawn to a corner of the shop. I wondered if someone was going to come over to help me out. I looked down again at the phones on the shelves. One phone in particular caught my eye. I picked it up, and examined it closely. It had a large, clear, colour screen, and it was a flip-open design. I flipped it open a few times. It felt good in my hands. I smiled. This is my phone. This is the phone I will use to get a job. My future employer will call me on this very phone.

Excited, I waved at the 3 Japanese. They looked back at me, with an odd mixture of horror and confusion, as if I had just sprouted a leg from my head and started jumping up and down screaming. Unsure of correct protocol, I waved again, and pointed at my phone. All three Japanese suddenly had begun some kind of discussion. It went for about 15 seconds while I stood there with my shiny new phone. Finally I cleared my throat. I wanted to buy this phone and start looking for work, lets get this show on the road.

One Japanese detached from the group, and walked over to me. He was a young guy, maybe 22 years old. He was thin and pretty tall, and he exuded awkwardness and worry.

I tried to re-assure him. "Maybe they thought I was holding up the shop?" I thought, which brought a smile to my face.

"It's ok! I just want to buy this phone." I smiled as re-assuringly as I could manage.

"Buy?" He repeated.

"Yes. I like this phone a lot. This phone, please." I said still smiling, as I offered him the phone for his confirmation.

He cautiously took the phone, and then looked at me. I was aware the other 2 Japanese were silent and focused on our interaction as well.

"Umm..... Why do you needo mobairu phone?" He asked, finally.

"Um, sorry? Why do I need a mobile phone? Are you kidding? I don't get it?" I laughed as good-naturedly as possible.

"Hmm.. I don't think you needo mobairu phone." He said with authority.

"What? Of course, I need this mobile phone." I said with some conviction. What the hell was this?

"No... what would you use mobairu phone?" He said in halting English.

"What do you mean? What would I use it for?? For calling. For receiving calls. Look mate, this is capitalism. You have phone. I have money. Now we swap. Here is my money." I withdrew $100 from my wallet, and showed him. He stepped back as though recoiling from my money.

"I don't think you need mobairu phone. You musto pay money ebery month. Expensive," He added, as though these were convincing arguments.

"Listen," I said, starting to get a bit frustrated. "I need this mobile phone. Here is my money. What do I need to sign? What do I need to do?"

"Sorry... I think it's difficult." He said, looking genuinely sorry.

"Whats difficult? This is simple. Phone. Money. DONE!" I said, emphasising the word "done".

"Very sorry. It's very difficult." He repeated.

I realised I wasn't getting anywhere. This was ridiculous.

"Are you going to sell me the phone, or not?" I made one final attempt to claim my favourite phone.

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled nervously. "I am very sorry." He repeated.

Flushed red with frustration, I turned on my heel, and walked out of the shop. I picked a direction and began walking to try to find a more accommodating mobile phone shop.

I would later realise that the paperwork and requirements for a foreigner to get on a mobile phone contract is much greater and more complicated than a regular Japanese person. They would need to have explained all of it in English, which would have been very difficult for them. So, these Japanese had a problem. One English speaking foreigner in their shop who was focused on buying a mobile. They had to get rid of me as quickly and as nicely as possible, so they had a meeting, found the reluctant hero who spoke the most English, and sent him over to discourage me from purchasing a phone. A few minutes later I left the shop in frustration, after realising they weren't going to sell me the phone.

I would later find out that Japanese people solve almost all of their problems through this style of non-confrontation. Thus, a complicated problem was avoided in the most elegant and confrontation-free manner - the Japanese way.

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