I visited a company that makes equipment for defect detection today, equipment that can do a number of things we can’t, especially inspect large surfaces quickly.  It was interesting to see what they do and how they do it; they essentially mimic the eye’s neurological processes with an array of parallel processors and use a higher resolution to one-up the eye.  I showed them our equipment and very briefly demonstrated what it can do, which required lugging the suitcase through Tokyo trains and subways that are oriented toward commuters and not travelers.  Having the Suica on me helps, but the fact remains that there are several stations like Yoyogi where there are no escalators to the tracks and the ticket gate is not wide enough for me to get my suitcase through without standing it up.  And don’t get me started on how embarrassed I feel taking up the space of three people even in not very crowded trains. 

I did notice something funny when I mistakenly boarded the Namboku subway line at Meguro station.  For two stops it shares the track with the Mita line; I got off on the first one, realizing I’d made a mistake.  When I got on the Mita line, it was pretty crowded, but over half the train emptied out at the next stop in order to change onto the Namboku line.  What I don’t understand is why they get on when they have to wait for the same train they’d wait for at Meguro, except if they stayed in Meguro they might get a better seat because the car’s emptier due to everyone’s waiting in Shirokanetakanawa two stops down the line.  They must have some information I don’t. 

Done at about noon, I returned to my hotel, deposited my luggage, ate curry rice for lunch, went out to buy an envelope, came back to stuff a lot of documents into said envelope, and left again to mail it.  On the way back an American smiled at me: “How are ya?” 
“Fine, thanks, and you?” 
“Doing great!”
“See ya!” 
The vision passed, and I thought to myself that he mustn’t have been in Japan very long yet.  Most foreigners get used to avoiding other people’s eye contact like most Japanese do, or at least avoiding eye contact with foreigners who might be of the weird sort that expect instant camaraderie because they share your pointy nose. 

I took off and boarded the Narita Express for the airport.  Again I noticed the odd slowing down and strange bridge into nowhere that sits a few kilometers outside of Narita and wondered if they once had planned to build a shinkansen out to the airport.  At the airport I boarded the bus to the Holiday Inn Tobu Narita, where I undid all my calorie reducing efforts by going for the dinner buffet.  It was western food, centered around little strips of peppercorn steak that the chef cooked right in front of the customer, and offering a good mixture of different surf and turf options.  I did eat a bit of salad and some fruits, but they weren’t what was going to make the 4000-yen bill worth it. 

And here’s why one should never eat only to get one’s money’s worth: When I paid, I was told that because today was a weekday and there was therefore no crab in the buffet, the total would only come to 2700 yen. 

So either I rationalize my intake with all the heavy lifting or else I go for a few laps in the pool, which would also justify having brought along my swim trunks.  I think I better hurry: it’s only open for another hour. 

I didn’t plan to post, but I’m listening to my new Spitz CD and loath to stop, so I’ll blog while I’m hooked to the computer. 

Monday saw me waking several times in the early morning because my fear of oversleeping kept me from a restful sleep.  So after six regularly interrupted hours of sleep I got up at 4:40 and ready for a long trip to Osaka.  I visited an SME manufacturing support setup and two of the member companies there in what was more of a scouting trip than an actual sales visit, but it turned out well.  I was exhausted by the time I returned and battling a little cold which I believe a good dose of sleep should quickly cure, but sleep’s hard to come by right now.  So it was this exhaustion that drove me to turn in before Janet showed up on skype, and I’m glad for the nine hours of sleep I got, even though the cold’s not quite gone. 

Today’s workload was less intense, comprising two meetings in Tokyo to gather economic information on Japan.  I tried to keep my calorie intake down, inspired by my extra padding and by the Jonathan’s menu that shows the calories for every meal, but I think I had better wait until my cold is gone. 

I had a good talk with Janet despite some skype issues and should now be getting busy with packing, because tomorrow I check out.  It’ll be a day of heavy lifting, especially with one of the four suitcase wheels knocked out of whack to where it blocks when it’s leading and causes the suitcase to tip.  Add to that Japan’s June humidity and it’ll be a fun day – I’m on my last song, so I better get ready to turn in…

 

Granted, Maharajas don’t have meeting minutes to write and report home, but I’m more easily satisfied.  After a meeting I dreaded because there was no agenda and notoriously bad communication preceding it, I didn’t mind that it lasted a good five hours because it went much better than expected.  Add to that the possibility to have my suit dry-cleaned in one day tomorrow, and that’s reason enough for a small-scale celebration. 

I ambled about aimlessly in search of a restaurant that suited me, saw an ad for El Torito, saw the twenty-odd people sitting in a row outside (though compared with the Krispy Kreme line that’s tame), and decided to try the one Japanese restaurant, which was too expensive, and the other, which was full, finally arriving at the Indian restaurant Maharaja, where I snagged a seat in the smoking section as had so many non-smokers before me, judging from the sparse smoke.  (Besides, I suppose it’s a three-way tie between smoke, Indian food, and rainy season sweat.)  I ordered (and ate) Hara Bara Kabab, Kaburi Naan (naan with chopped raisins and cashews), and spicy lamb kabab along with a plain lassi and an Indian Shiraz that tasted good even before the food came.  I admit that I didn’t quite fit the typical restaurant visitor – there were plenty of foreigners, but they were either there on business or with a Japanese girlfriend.  For some reason I hadn’t thought ahead to plan that accessory acquisition correctly, but I don’t think it would have been appreciated…  Besides, it made me aware that I am missing someone who I know is missing me, and both of us for good reason.  And with that, I think I’m better off than even your average Maharaja. 

 

We visited a research lab in the Nagoya area today, which meant I spent four to five hours on the train and close to two in a car.  I’m glad the presentation of our system went well, and encouraged that the customer was one who’d met us at the nano tech 2008 (and was particularly impressed by our set-up demonstration). 

Aside from the demonstration, the highlight for me was okonomiyaki for lunch.  It’s great how whatever one chucks into the mix, it turns out great, especially if there’s enough mayonnaise and okonomiyaki sauce to go around.  The drink I had along with it was a black tea soda – think southern iced tea with carbonation.  Unusual, but good. 

I spent quite a bit of my travel time reading Obama’s book, and although I’m about as un-black as you can get, I identify with some of the sentiment he describes in finding an identity between his different origins.  My struggle wasn’t and isn’t as marked as his, because neither of my ancestries gets particularly discriminated, but I remain a person with multiple allegiances.  I’ve come to the conclusion that that’s a good thing: the more diffuse and varied one’s allegiances, the less likely nations are to garner one’s support for warfare, or even for basic nationalism. 

I can’t say for sure if the 16-hour fast has helped or not, because every trip into a different time zone is different, due to the time and duration of the flight and other factors, but I’m doing reasonably well.  I still have impredictable moments of incipient narcolepsy, but overall I’m staying awake when I should and feeling dirt tired right about now. 

On the train to church I began Barack Obama’s book “Dreams from My Father,” which resulted in a retiree opposite me asking where I was from and what was my purpose for visiting Japan.  I let him have his English practice; he used to work in advertising for mass media.  He said he thought I looked like an American or a German, so he was surprised that I was from Switzerland, especially since he figured I’d be an American from the book I was reading.  I didn’t explain the details – sometimes I can’t be bothered. 

At church Uchida-san preached on 1 Corinthians 4:1-5, with the title “It is the Lord who judges me.”  It seems that he’s also working through this book, if a previous post is any hint (the difficulty in understanding his Japanese corroborates that it was also Uchida-san preaching back then).  I can tell his sermons are systematic and his sentences a little tortuous, and that’s about it, although I do get the gist of his sermons.  Today’s sermon as I understood it: The judgment that matters is the Lord’s, because in comparison to him men know little and wield little permanent power.  Even I myself don’t know myself well enough to judge myself correctly.  Or so. 

Because today was the first Sunday that a group from Park Cities Presbyterian Church in Dallas joined the church, they made taco salad and lemonade for the young adults group.  What with my zeppin burger yesterday for dinner I’ve had quite the Japanese culinary experience so far… 

I had the odd experience of nearly all new American acquaintances expressing the impression that we’d met before.  In some cases we got close – Isaac had come here in 2002, shortly after I’d returned to Switzerland.  In others, we merely figured out that Patrick got his degree at DTS, where Catharine is now, and Amy works at SMU, which is where Mom went to college.  At any rate, after lunch they proceeded to explain what they were doing (which is where I found out that they’re a sister church of Tim Keller’s Redeemer Presbyterian in New York City) and talk about Texas (y’all, it’s the biggest state in the contiguous US).  They concluded with a game called “Howdy Partner!” where the person able to say Howdy Partner with the most marshmallows in his mouth wins.  It will pain some of my friends in Basel to learn that all the contestants spit out the marshmallows in their mouth at the end. 

On the train home I had my sleep attacks, despite otherwise enjoying Obama’s book.  I spent my evening buying a train ticket to Nagoya for tomorrow and eating sashimi, tofu and radish salad, and chicken wings at a neat Japanese restaurant which unfortunately decided strident R&B made for the best atmosphere.  I walked briefly into a bookstore and again pondered the purchase of the DVD with the robot called Stephan, ステファン 宇宙へ行く.  Again, the idea of laying down 4000 yen for what was essentially a novelty product – a DVD in Japanese and “Stephanese with Japanese subtitles” – prevented me from following through.  On the way back to the hotel I came across a Dodge Ram 1500, possibly the most ridiculous car a Tokyoite could decide to purchase. 

A final observation on observations and I’ll close.  I’m a rather visual person and I observe people.  I’ve noticed that although I still notice female beauty, I see it with somewhat changed eyes: admiration has been mostly supplanted by analysis of what works and what doesn’t and what might work on the woman I care about.  I hadn’t particularly noticed that in Switzerland, so I suppose it’s the distance and the sheer amount of fodder for people-watching in Japan that brought that to my attention.  I’m not unhappy with this development.  

Actually, I’ll add one more thing: if someone could help me turn off the stupid little joystick cum button in the middle of my keyboard, I’d be most grateful.  I keep hitting it as I type.