***
I’m a bit more alert today, and despite the abrupt start, I’m quite excited to learn more about my new adopted home. Sarah becomes my travel guide and points out landmarks of note and any other titbits that occur to her along the way. But I soon learn it’s not your average commentary.
“That’s where I got lost one night and ended up partying with some drag queens in an ex-pat bar. And that’s where I ended up early the next morning down by the river. I met the loveliest man who lived in a tent near the water. Ooh, and there’s where I kissed Tsuyoshi Kusanagi at a SMAP promotional event. Do you know he was arrested once for dancing naked in a park in Tokyo?”
My brain is unable to keep up. Drag queens? Street bums? Japanese celebrities? At least that’s what I gather from that last bit. And here I thought life would be all zen gardens and meditation.
“Uh, wow. It sounds like you’re really enjoying your time here.”
“Oh, it’s the best. You know what I really like? That I can make a fool of myself or do anything and no one notices. All the people I hang around with now have the same attitude. I don’t have to worry about my family or childhood friends back home judging me on my behaviour.”
“That sounds very liberating,” I say, recalling my recent public humiliation. I don’t think I would have minded so much if it had happened here where none of my friends were around to see it.
We arrive at the base of what Sarah tells me is Osaka Castle. There’s a big field attached to its surrounding parkland. It’s so pretty. There are big bushy green trees everywhere.
A Japanese woman takes charge. She speaks in both Japanese and English to explain the rules to us, and we’re given special stripy jerseys with the Bella logo emblazoned across them. Half of them are blue and half are red. Sarah and I get red ones. David gets a blue one. He pulls it over his head and starts strutting around like he owns the place.
“David is very competitive,” Sarah whispers. “Just try and stay out of his way.”
“That won’t be difficult,” I reply. “I’m so un-coordinated, I’ll probably be responsible for our team losing.”
“Don’t worry, it’s all just a bit of fun. As I said before, no one else is that great at it either.”
“I hope you’re right.”
We take our places on the field. My team bats first. I line up near the back hoping that enough people will get out before my turn.
No such luck. I’m sixth in line. A really large man insisted on standing behind me, along with a geeky looking Japanese guy with Coke bottle glasses, and a girl with a neck brace.
There isn’t too much pressure—there’s only one person on a base—but it’s still quite intimidating.
Okay, I can do this. I pick up the bat and make my way to the plate. David is the pitcher, and seemingly out for blood. He pelts the ball at me before I even have a chance to blink.
“Strike!”
I’m better prepared the second time. I take a swing, but still miss.
“Strike!”
Yes, thank you for pointing that out.
On the last one, I swing before the ball has even left David’s hand, but the bat makes contact and the ball dribbles pitifully to my left.
“Run!” Sarah shouts at me.
I drop the bat and run for my life. I might actually make it to first base!
I’m just about there when the ball whizzes past my ear and the girl at first base catches it and flings her arm up in the air in victory.
So close!
I’m more disappointed than I thought I would be.
“Hard luck,” David says insincerely. “It’s only your first time, so don’t beat yourself up over it.”
What a jerk.
We play for what feels like forever. I keep getting distracted by the view of the castle poking up behind the trees, and the realisation that I’m in a foreign country. I wish I was here under better circumstances. But then it’s not like I’m going to be stuck in the office twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There will be time for sightseeing later. I hope.
We’re near the end. The scores are almost even. I find this surprising, because our team doesn’t seem to have played nearly as well as David’s. We must have fluked it somehow.
It’s our turn to field. I stand way out the back, trying to get a better view of the castle wall. Those rocks are so big!
Sarah is standing nearby so we can chat. She points to a squirrel hopping around a few feet away. How cute! I’ve never seen a squirrel before. Sarah is English so she’s probably seen plenty—but it’s still a pleasant diversion from the drudgery of our corporate obligation.
None of the balls come anywhere near me. I’m relieved, because I’m terrible at catching. Even with the oversized mitt I’m holding, I’m sure I would drop anything thrown at me.
I suddenly notice that all the bases are loaded. At least I think that’s what it’s called. It’s David’s turn and he’s looking pretty smug. If he gets this, his team will win.
He gets up to bat. And misses the first ball. Ha. Not so cool after all.
He hits the second one, but it goes out.
He smashes the third one straight out into the sky. And right towards me.
Great. Just what I need. I squint up into the sun and try to see where the ball is. Oh. It’s right above my head. I think it’s going to hit me! I put my mitt up to protect my skull and feel the ball drop straight into my hand.
Oh my God! Did I just get David out?
Sarah is looking at me incredulously and then starts laughing. “Look at you! You won us the game!”
My team comes up cheering and patting me on the back. I’m quite excited. I’ve never won anything!
David is sitting on the grass looking mutinous. He stares at me for a moment and I swear I see evil in his eyes. Oh well. I can’t help it if he’s a sore loser.
We all sit on the grass in the shade drinking bottles of something called Pocari Sweat. Sarah assures me that it’s just like Gatorade, and nothing weird or gross like its name suggests.
I feel like I might have gone some way to fitting in today. I even decide to stay for lunch and get to know some of the other people I’ll be working with. I’m quite looking forward to my first official Japanese lunch. I can’t wait to try proper sushi actually from Japan.
But then it turns out there’s a Subway across the road and everyone votes to eat there. I feel a bit let down. I can get that anywhere. I’ll have to ask Sarah to take me to a good sushi place for dinner later.
We all munch on our subs and chat, but the English speakers and the Japanese speakers sit separately. Some of the Japanese keep staring at me and giggling. I ask Sarah what’s going on.
“Why do they keep looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling it’s because you put David in his place. They don’t like him very much.”
“I’m not surprised, going by how he treats everyone.”
“I think he really only gets along with Hiroshi.”
“Yeah, and even that relationship seems odd,” I say remembering the way he acted yesterday.
After we eat, some of the Japanese disappear for a few minutes and come back with a narrow box. The geeky guy with the Coke bottle glasses hands it to my shyly. “This is your prize for helping us win the game.”
I take it humbly. “Domo arigato gozaimasu.” I try out my formal thank you.
They all grin.
I open the box and find a beautiful hand-painted fan. My eyes well up.
“Thanks, guys.”
It means so much to be accepted. I’m really glad I took this assignment. Things might turn out all right after all.
***
At 2pm, we catch the bus back to the office. The Japanese keep high-fiving me all the way back. It’s very sweet.
I corner Sarah, and she agrees to take me shopping and out for an early dinner.
The reality of shopping in a mall in Japan is everything I thought i
t would be. It’s just like on TV—thousands of people vying for space in the overcrowded covered marketplaces. We’re surrounded by hundreds of shops with flashing neon signs and blaring music.
I’ve never been so thankful to be lean. There is no way I would fit into any of these clothes if I was even a few pounds heavier. Everything is so tiny.
Luckily Sarah is also quite petite. We spend ages shopping, and by the end I’ve bought a pair of neon green skinny jeans, a Hello Kitty backpack and an electric blue tank top. It’s all fairly impractical, but I just can’t help myself. Everything is so cute.
Sarah also helps me pick out a new mobile phone and a case. The case is covered with pictures of Rilakkuma, a cartoon teddy bear with an oversized head.
Sarah’s not a big fan of Japanese food, but she reluctantly agrees to take me to a proper sushi place for dinner. I’m amazed. How could anyone not like sushi?
We go to a sushi train bigger than any I’ve ever seen back home. It has a track with several hundred plates scooting around on its carriages. We sit in a small booth beside the track and I examine my surroundings in awe. There’s a hot tap built into the wall and tea bags on the table for us to make our own tea. There is also a little drawer that looks like a laundry chute for our empty plates. So high tech!
“Can you speak Japanese?” I ask Sarah.
“Not really. Enough to ask the price of something in the shops, or to order some food, but I’m rubbish at holding a conversation.”
“Are you staying in Japan long?”
“I’m not sure yet. You know, when I first arrived, I thought I was only going to be here for a month! And I didn’t find out until I actually got here that they planned to keep me for a lot longer.”
I squeal. “Me too! I found out just as I was getting on the plane! I thought I was going to be escorted off the flight and sent to jail or something. I was so hysterical.”
She laughs. “Well, I make sure all my employees know exactly what’s happening when I’m in charge of recruiting them. Sometimes these big organisations haven’t got a clue about managing people. I’m sorry I wasn’t the one allocated to helping you with your transition.”
“That’s okay. My office back home should have looked after it for me. That reminds me, I’ll have to try and track down my CEO’s e-mail address. I think he might be able to clear up a few things for me.”
“Let me know if I can do anything.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
I stop talking for a moment to inspect the train as it passes by. It seems like anything can pass for sushi as long as it has a little blob of rice under it. There’s one with a hamburger patty and tomato sauce, and another that looks like alien slime. Sarah says it’s natto, made from fermented soybeans. I decide to give that one a miss.
When Sarah excuses herself to go to the bathroom, I take the opportunity to set up my e-mail on my phone. She comes back just as I’m finishing up.
“Hey, you know you can put your new work e-mail on there too? Let me do it for you.’ I hand her the phone and she starts tapping away at the miniature keys. “I got the IT guys to organise an account for all new staff the other day. The e-mail addresses at Bella have the same format, and your password is just your date of birth.”
“So I could hack into someone’s account if I knew their birthday?”
“Not necessarily. You’re supposed to change it after the first login—but I’m sure most of the staff are too lazy to do it. So I guess you could. Although, as an HR representative, I have to advise you that it would be a breach of office guidelines and you could be fired,” she warns half-jokingly.
“Okay. Duly noted.” As if I’d want to hack into someone’s e-mail. I’m not James Bond.
“There you go. Just type in your birthday and you’re done.” She passes the phone back and I check to see if it works.
“Oh look, I already have a message!”
“It’s probably just a welcome e-mail. You get them automatically.”
“I think it’s from David.” I open it and scan it. My heart sinks.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah frowns at my expression.
“He wants an entire proposal done, with no less than five concepts, by the end of the week!”
“That sounds a bit unreasonable.”
“It is! Especially with the list of requirements he’s sent through. I need to research all of the past Bella campaigns and then look at what works here in Japan. I can’t automatically assume that what worked at home is going to be successful in this part of Asia. And look, he only sent it through this afternoon!”
“He’s probably pissed that you lost him the game today.”
“Well, I’m going to make sure he can’t find fault with a single thing I do. I’m going to do it so well that he’ll have no choice but to like it.”
“Good for you.”
“And he’s assuming I won’t get this until Monday, so I still have tonight and all tomorrow to get ahead. Ha. Wait till he sees who he’s up against.”
Sarah smiles. “I bet he has no idea.”
NINE
I go back to my hotel right after I’ve paid the bill. Sarah is heading home to change, and then she’s going back out to an ex-pat bar called Sam and Dave’s. It sounds pretty wild. She invited me along, but I turned her down. I’m on a mission to prove I’m up for David’s challenge.
As I walk past reception, the woman behind the counter calls out to me.
“Jessica Harper?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a message for you.” She holds out an envelope. I take it curiously and go up to my room. I wait until I’m inside before I open the letter.
Dear Jessica,
I trust you have arrived safe and sound and are enjoying your time in Japan so far. I want to apologise personally for not giving you more warning regarding the length of the Bella campaign. It was only brought to my attention yesterday – but I will speak with Hiroshi in the coming weeks and re-evaluate whether it is necessary for you to be there for the entire duration. The opportunity we discussed the other day still stands, pending successful completion of this assignment, and hopefully we’ll have you home sooner, rather than later. I will contact you again when I visit, so please be patient. I would also appreciate if you continued to keep our communications confidential.
Regards,
Don Richardson.
Well, that explains a lot. I feel better now. It’s a shame I don’t have any way of replying so I can ask more questions, though. It’s all so old-fashioned—who writes actual faxed letters these days?
This new information strengthens my resolve. Now more than ever I have to impress the team at Bella so I can do Don proud—and score myself that new job when I get back. I wonder why he’s being so cloak and dagger about it all. Am I going to be taking someone else’s job? Or am I going to be promoted above someone else who thinks they deserve it more than me? Either way, being in another country will make it easy for me to avoid everyone. I don’t even have the e-mail addresses of anyone back at my other office. They’re all stored on my work computer.
I log onto Bella’s intranet instead—Sarah gave me the passwords for remote access so I could see what their past campaigns involved. For such a large company, their corporate image is pretty bad. Their colours are all wrong, using a sickly yellow green for the word Bella and a candy pink for the words Beauty Products. It’s not fresh or sophisticated like it should be. My goal will be to make it look elegant, youthful and exclusive.
I sketch up a few new logos and research colour symbolism to make sure the shades I’ve picked aren’t culturally insensitive. I write down a few ideas about potential angles for advertising and make a plan for the rest of the week. My presentation is going to be so good that David won’t possibly be able to complain.
***
I throw myself into bed just after 1am and sleep fitfully. The time difference is only an hour, but I still feel jetlagged from all the travelling.
; At 7am, I’m back up. I’ve decided to spend the majority of the day refining my ideas and getting started on the massive report David is demanding to back up my concepts.
But first, I need some breakfast. The hotel restaurant is crowded with single Japanese businessmen, so I go in search of somewhere a bit more exciting.
There is a huge concrete structure near the train station. It’s at least ten storys high and doesn’t look like it has any windows, but there are a couple of patisseries and coffee shops on the ground floor. I buy myself some coffee and a croissant and sit out on the pavement. I know it’s not very Japanese, but I just can’t stomach the idea of a savoury breakfast. I think I’m going to have to work up to it.
I pull a small notebook out of my purse and sketch the scene in front of me. It’s considerably quieter than yesterday, but there are still a few people around, even on a Sunday morning. I can’t get over the number of men in dark suits. It reminds me of that scene in The Matrix where they duplicate Agent Smith.
My croissant is amazing—so much better than the ones at home. And my coffee is exactly how I like it: strong and sweet.
For a second my mind goes quiet and I become a part of the environment. I forget about work and David and all the stuff I’ve been dealing with over the past few weeks. I’m sitting in the middle of this fantastic country where almost nobody knows who I am, and I’m completely content. Perhaps this is what Buddhists mean when they talk about inner peace.
But the feeling doesn’t last long. An old man on a bicycle loses control of his steering and misses crashing into me by inches. His front wheel bangs into a nearby wall and he topples off.
I jump up to make sure he’s okay. He looks embarrassed and smells quite strongly of stale alcohol. He brushes my arm away, muttering something in Japanese. I make sure he’s not bleeding and sit back down.
It’s a funny place this. Futuristic architecture, and little old men on ancient bicycles. Historic temples, and ex-pats who party with drag queens.
I scribble a few notes to remind myself of something to put in my report later. I then stop by a book shop on the way back to my hotel and buy a few fashion magazines. I want to check out the competition.
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