Dinner with Fumiyo
I apologize if this one isn't too interesting... it's a lot like the movie "My Dinner with Andre". It's just me going to dinner two times with a woman who I met at work. (There's no sex or romance in it, either.)
At one of the client sites around town, I was having lunch and got into a conversation with one of the Ojosans in the office. She spoke English reasonably well. In fact, her position was in international trade and she had to speak English on a regular basis. Her name was Fumiyo, and she worked for a unit of one of the largest five companies in Japan (indeed, it's one of the largest companies in the world, but I'm not going to name which one it is...) She looked like she was in her early 30s, and the ring on her finger indicated that she was married. She had a slightly pinched mouth, but her eyes and nose were endearing. And her mode of dress was semi-conservative, but it looked very good on her.
Fumiyo works in a sogo-shosha (general trading company) affiliated with a keiretsu (big-ass, multi-industry corporation). The archetypical keiretsu corporate structure has a sogo-shosha to act as a global distribution channel; it is a distinctly Japanese-style business arrangement. The sogo-shosha is a corporation majority-owned by other units within the keiretsu, it buys-up the goods from other branches of the keiretsu and markets them internationally. Since the sogo-shosha concentrates its international sales team in one place for all the products of the keiretsu, the other keiretsu members are freed from the burden of creating their own international sales departments. Fumiyo works in a team which administrates the company's machinery sales in southeast Asia and she has to communicate to buyers in Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia by phone, fax and e-mail. Every week, she is responsible for handling several million dollars worth of sales (er, or maybe that should be several hundred million yen worth of sales...) She asked me to help her practice English, and I agreed. Indeed, I told her that I would be happy to help her practice English if she so desired.
In fact... are you sitting-down? Are you ready for this? Fumiyo asked me to dinner and she offered to pay(!) Ostensibly to help her conversation and listening skills. I agreed to meet her the next evening, outside a nearby railway station. Well, huzzah! American chicks could learn a thing or two from this one.
First Dinner...
She and I arrived at exactly the same time. She waved me over to her car.
"Hello!" She greeted me. I hopped-into her Volvo. Leather seats. It looked brand-new.
"Wow, this is a nice car! Is it new?"
"Thank you, yes." She nodded.
"I could never drive here."
"Is the traffic so bad?"
"No, not so bad... but I couldn't drive on the left side of the road. I'd make way too many mistakes. I'd do something terrible... like accidentally go-down the wrong side of the street and run-over a dozen orphans carrying bunnies. Wouldn't that look awful on the news? 'Foreigner runs-over orphans and bunnies. The following images may be graphic...'"
She laughed.
We drove to a restaurant near the center of Michinoshi, chatting the whole way. In fact, the restaurant we went to was a damn good one, specializing in classical Japanese cuisine. The walls were decorated with an intentionally patchy-looking burgundy paint-job, and a number of avant-garde black and white photographs were on display here and there.
We settled-in and looked-over the menu.
"This is your first month in Japan?" She asked.
"Well, a little bit longer than a full month, yes." I indicated the menu. "What do you suggest?"
"You like seafood?" She inquired. I nodded enthusiastically. "Usually foreigners think Japanese food is strange."
"Not me... I love to eat anything. Sushi, yakisoba, shoe-leather, sashimi... What do you suggest we order?"
Indeed, she chose a few dishes. And what good choices they were: we had abalone, smoked salmon, tuna-belly... and eel liver soup (woo-hoo!) I didn't really care for the uni (sea urchin). Uni had the unappetizing texture and appearance of boiled squash... plus it had the added disadvantage of tasting like gritty mud. (More than a few Japanese don't care for it, either.)
Before dinner, we enjoyed some Asahi Super Dry beer poured into tall glasses.
"Welcome to Japan." She smiled as we clinked glasses.
"Thank you very much." I replied. She sipped her drink.
"It is not typical for a Japanese woman to drink beer." She said.
"Is that right?" I asked.
"Yes. I'm not a typical Japanese woman." She looked at the ceiling and smiled whimsically.
"Oh, and why is that?" I asked, curiously.
"My husband and I... we allow ourselves our own free time. He has his free time, I have my free time. This is not typical."
"Well, that sounds like a very healthy arrangement. You don't step on each others' toes. Your daughter is in grade school?"
"Yes, she is seven years old. My daughter... I am involved with her schooling, but I am not over-involved. 'Over-involved', is that right way to say it?"
"That's correct." I nodded. "No problem at all."
"Yes, many Japanese mothers are very involved in their children's education. Maybe too involved."
"Well, my parents were always pushing me to do my best. That's what parents do..."
We followed dinner by sharing a bottle of cold sake; we sat there sipping the potent alcohol. We'd already had some beer with dinner, and our tongues were gradually becoming looser. The topics became more scattered and more varied. At one point, she asked me about what I thought about U.S. military involvement in Afghanistan.
"Well... I guess..." I sighed. "Well, first of all, the terrorist attacks in September needed to be retaliated-for. Second of all, the Taliban in Afghanistan were a very bad regime. They were unambiguous supporters of terrorism, and the way they treated women was horrible beyond measurement. So, I have to say that I think the military actions in Afghanistan can be considered justifiable. Some folks will claim that this war is an excuse to build an oil pipeline through the region, but I don't give much weight to that idea. Normally, I'm pretty cynical about the reasons behind military actions but I think the oil-pipeline theory is just speculation."
"The news here doesn't cover many stories on Afghanistan." She said. "Only a few articles."
"Yes,
that's right. But I manage to catch the BBC on cable, and I can sometimes read
English-language newspapers at the library. What I've gathered over the last two
months has been fragmented, but not very pleasant. I guess..." I sighed.
"You know, even though I think the military actions in Afghanistan are justifiable,
I don't agree with the process by which the president went-about doing them. In
the U.S. Constitution, there are very clear guidelines on how war is to be waged.
The founders of the American government did not want the President to have
a free ticket to wage war. The Constitution says clearly that war should be declared
by Congress. After enough evidence was gathered to justify military action, I
think that George W should've laid-out the evidence and asked Congress to formally
declare a state of war. And Congress would have done it without hesitation.
But no, that's not what happened." I sipped my drink and clasped my hands.
"George
W went to Congress and said 'let me do whatever with the military, law-enforcement
and immigration services for as long as it takes. I promise I'll be fighting terrorists.
Yee-hah.' I don't think he even enunciated achievable victory conditions,
but given the circumstances Congress gave him a blank check. I mean... Dan Rather,
an American news-anchor, was recently interviewed on tv in England. He said that
the U.S. government is trying to make their anti-terrorism war as opaque as possible
for the public. Rather said that there is a serious, serious deficiency with transparency
in the decision-making and accountability of the Bush administration, and it'll
turn into a serious problem if something isn't done about it."
"So... you don't like Bush?" Fumiyo asked.
"I don't really have anything personal against him, it's just the bad decision-making and lying of some politicians that I can't stand. There was a lot of anger after the terrorist attacks, and I admit I was caught-up in the emotion of it too. But it is my belief that the public of a democracy must be informed as to how a war will be waged. The lessons we learned in Vietnam appear to be in the process of being unlearned. The President started his term by promising 'absolutely no war without an exit strategy' but then we had him turn-around and say 'guess what? We're gonna have no way out of this war, and it could last decades!' It bugs me. We have this unwinnable military action in Afghanistan... a 'mission-creep' pattern is clearly emerging. It's not good for anyone..." I looked at her eyes. "I'm sorry for talking so much... I'm passionate about these sorts of subjects." I laughed dryly. Bah, it's not even being classified as an official war! "I'm getting drunk, aren't I? That's all it is..."
At the end, she paid for dinner in its entirety, invited me out the next week... and even offered to drive me home, too. And she says she could see me every Tuesday evening, if I'd like. I did offer to help pay, but she kept insisting 'no'.
On the way back, I asked her if I talked too much? She said no, listening to me speak was just what she needed. (Perhaps she was being polite, however... I don't like talking too much. My experience is that whenever a man talks about any subject other than how wonderful the woman is, then she'll start to think he talks 'too much'.)
I swear... being taken-out for a great dinner and having the woman pay for it feels like a luxury.
Second Dinner...
We met at the Michinoshi railway station... indeed, the building I met her in was in the central business district right-down the street. As we walked to her car, I indicated towards the large steel and glass skyscraper soaring into the air three blocks away. A well-known corporate logo could be seen illuminated on the side. It was the building in which she had spent the day working.
"Which floor is your office on?" I asked.
"Thirty." She replied. Alas, the street was noisy and I didn't hear...
"Uh, thirteen?" I asked.
"Three-zero."
"Oh... that's incredibly high-up. I've only been there the one time that I first met you, and that was on the tenth floor. What's it like on the roof?"
"The roof of my building has a Shinto shrine." She said, matter-of-factly. "So employees can pray there if they want to."
"Very interesting." I'm sure that praying at the company shrine looks like a very good gesture for an employee, indeed... 'if they want to' probably means 'when they feel obligated to'.
Fumiyo took me to a rather nice-looking place for yaki-nikku (meat you grill yourself). We ordered an assortment of meat and vegetables and cooked them on the gas burner between us. We sipped beer.
"You could never have a grill like this in an American restaurant." I said. "An open flame in the middle of the table would probably violate the fire codes."
"Honto?" (Really?)
"In most places, at least. Yes, there was this little Korean eatery in my hometown. They had some tables which'd be perfect for cooking a number of hot-pot dishes, and I asked the proprietors if they were planning to do that... They said no, fire codes and all. Shame." Using my chopsticks, I grabbed a thoroughly seared slice of beef tongue and dipped it into my sauce. I put it in my mouth. "Mmmmm, that is sooo goooood... " I covered my mouth with my hand as I spoke. "Needs some cilantro, though. Have you ever tried Mongolian-style hot-pot?" She shook her head. I swallowed. "I think the Japanese for it is 'Mongoru no shabu-shabu'. It is one of the most fun dishes you'll find in Taiwan. Oh! I was meaning to ask you... I have a feeling that you've traveled to some interesting places?" I poked at a slice of eggplant that looked about ready to come-off the heat...
"I love going on vacation, and often Japanese people can get very inexpensive holidays because of the exchange rate... I have been to Saipan, New Caledonia, Hawaii, Guam, Tahiti and some other places around the Pacific. You?"
"Let's see... well, I've been to Taiwan five times to study. I've also gone backpacking in the Himalayas and the Rocky mountians."
"The Himalayas? Interesting... when I saw you for the first time, I never thought you were so... so... adventurous."
"I don't look adventurous?" I chuckled. "What can I say? I am the Lord of Illusions... But Hawaii, Guam and New Caledonia, those are all tropical vacation places, have you ever been to the U.S. mainland?"
"Florida. With my husband and daughter."
"Disneyworld, eh?" I smirked, as did she. "But New Caledonia, that sounds fascinating... I've been thinking of perhaps going down to the south Pacific sometime this summer..." Suddenly, a painting caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and immediately recognized it... it was totally out of place. "My God, that's... that's a replica of The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch!" I smiled and shook my head. "I wonder if The Garden of Infernal Delights is hanging around here somewhere? Heh, you run-into the most interesting paintings in the places you least expect. Bosch and yaki-nikku."
"Oh, you like art?" She asked. She called the waitress and ordered two fuzzy navels.
"Thank you for the drinks. Well, some art, yes." (I must be what people call a 'pretentious ass'.) "I often like impressionists. Artists like Monet, for instance."
"Oh, honto? I saw on the news that will be a Monet exhibition this summer travelling through Japan."
"Hmm, I'm sure there is some art in town that I might like to see because I also love Chinese calligraphic pieces. I'm always looking for good calligraphy." Fumiyo looked like she didn't catch my meaning. "Do you know what 'calligraphy' means?"
She shook her head.
"Chugaku no shodo." (Chinese calligraphy.) I drained my beer.
"Oh, sugoi!" (Oh, great!) She nodded in understanding. I decided I'd take a gamble and try to express myself in Japanese...
"Nazenaraba watashi-wa Taiwan-ni benkyushimashita... sorekara... sorekara... um... Taiwan-no bijutsukan ni, takusan no chugaku shodo kessaku-wo mimashita... mimashi... mimashita? URGH! Jehova, I just can't say it! Yikes! I'm a complete moron when it comes to Japanese!" I slapped my forehead, very frustrated.
"English is okay. Go on." The waitress brought our fuzzy navels; each had a translucent, ultra-thin slice of peach intermixed with the ice-cubes.
"Well, in Taiwan, I saw some of the best collections of Chinese art in the world. Back in 1949, when the Kuomintang were abandoning mainland China, they took some of the best art with them." I sipped my peachy drink. "Something like twenty train-cars of art and artifacts were evacuated from Beijing alone." I paused. "Well, I won't get into the details because I'm probably sounding boring right now."
"Oh no, you're not boring. Listening to you is very good practice because you speak the way a real American speaks. But if you like shodo, you can see some here." She nodded. "You like Japanese shodo?"
"I would like to see more pieces of it. I saw some in Washington D.C. last spring. There was an art gallery in the Smithsonian with a rather eclectic variety of Chinese and Japanese calligraphic pieces on display. I mean... it was random. Random in the way they presented the stuff. I ddin't understand why they organized it the way they did so the collection struck me as a little haphazard. I got the impression they had limited space in which to show-off a few examples." I paused. "Am I using words that are too hard?"
"Eto... a little hard. I should have brought dictionary. What other art do you like?"
"I'll try to use simpler words... But this topic might require certain hard words. I also like surrealists... surrealists do paintings that look like strange dreams. The artist Salvador Dali, for instance. In 1991, I went to Montreal to see a Dali exhibition. I saw the original Persistence of Memory. It is a painting of melting clocks."
"Melting clocks?" She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yesss..."
"So maybe you've seen it somewhere?" I paused for a second. "Wow, 1991 was over ten years ago, wasn't it?" I shook my head sadly.
"You're getting old." She smiled.
"It seemed like yesterday." I shook my head again. I still clearly remember a picture with a tiger leaping-out of the mouth of a goldfish... leaping-out of an exploding pomegranate. Dali is timeless. I think he once said that the only difference between himself and a madman is that a madman isn't crazy enough... "Ten years, wow." I sighed.
"I'm getting old too." She said.
"No way. You look... twenty seven or twenty eight." I smiled.
"Hm?" Her face registered surprise. She threw both hands over her face and laughed. "Ahahaha.... no, no... you really think I'm twenty-seven?" She shook her head.
"Well, you look twenty seven." I replied. Okay, maybe that was a teeny white lie... She wasn't a bad-looking woman per se...
"Oh. Well, I am twenty seven then." She smiled; I think she was blushing. "Thank you."
"But I'm talking way too much." I smirked. "Please tell me everything you know about New Caledonia..."
"It is a French colony there. So, I don't speak French and it was... challenge. But, hot weather and snorkeling was fun. But I read in newspaper, a Japanese woman was found killed in New Caledonia."
"Huh? Killed?"
"Yes. Last week, in newspaper. The news said that a Japanese woman was missing. She..." Fumiyo paused. "Sort of killing... ritualized killing."
"What?" I asked, stunned.
"Her body was found... laying on a flat rock in the jungle, hands over her heart with some flowers and leaves arranged around it in a pattern. The police said the killing was ritualized."
"Strange." God, that would suck. You look foward to going on vacation and... poor woman. I felt bad for her. "Sounds like it doesn't happen very often there, though. I mean... when you went down there, it didn't happen to you, did it?"
Fumiyo laughed. "No, it was okay for me... Usually people don't get ritually killed while on vacation. Even in New Caledonia." She smiled sweetly.
Once again, she paid for dinner... I'm still stunned.
From that point forward, I made a very conscientious effort to not dominate the conversation... As much as I don't like being thought-of as talking too much, she asked me a lot of questions and asked me for a lot of my opinions. Naturally, I did my best to answer them in a honest fashion. At the same time, I learned quite a lot about her.
She finds her job challenging, but she says it's always been her dream to work in a sogo-shosha. Supposedly, she is being considered for a promotion: she may be graduated to a team which handles the company's high-volume sales to North America. Indeed, judging by her designer suits and jewelry, she must make a tidy sum. And she also said that she enjoys going for drives in the countryside; she invited me to accompany her some weekend in the near future.
So, every Tuesday, she and I go-out... She's very nice and fun to talk to. A fellow could learn to enjoy this sort of treatment. But Miles warned me that Fumiyo just might be interested in being more than just friends with me- but I am wholly skeptical that he could be anywhere remotely close to the truth I mean, come on. She's married with a kid. I'm sure it's fun to muse that she's interested in me romantically, but it's highly doubtful.
I'll still keep an eye-out for that sort of sentiment from her in future, though.
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"Here lies my wife
Here let her lie!
Now she's at rest
And so am I." -- John Dryden, proposed "Epitaph for his wife."
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