Memoirs of a Gaijin  

May 16, 2007

I stood on the platform of Odakyu Sagamihara station as I had done so many hundreds (thousands?) of times in the past 34 years and never gave a second thought to where I was as it seemed so natural to me. After all, I am home again and it does feel good to be in familiar surroundings.

I heard the familiar tone signaling an approaching train and the familiar female voice informing everyone that the local train was arriving and to stand behind the yellow line. I swear that voice has never changed. I boarded the train and departed at the next stop, Sagami Ono, where I would catch the express train to Shinjuku.

As I boarded the express train I took my all too familiar spot at the opposite door where I could stare out the window as I so much enjoyed doing in the past. This was my favorite spot as these doors would not open until the stop before Shinjuku and I could daydream and observe the sights along the way without having to move. Also, it was my favorite spot during rush hour as I wouldn't be bothered.

After about 10 minutes it dawned on me that it was exactly 30 years and a little over one month that I had first stood in the same spot on the way to my first day of what would be fours years as a university student in Japan. I remembered that I thought to myself that day, "I will be riding this train four days a week for the next four years!" At the time it seemed like an eternity and the thought wasn't an entirely pleasant one as the commute was a little over an hour, but I had so much wanted to stay in Japan after serving in the military the previous four years that it was my only option and one that I really didn't mind and looked forward to with much anticipation.

As I stared out the window I began to contemplate the changes I had witnessed in a generation where I lived and along this train line. And, since I had been back to Japan like clockwork every single year since I left in 1988, I really never gave it much thought before today. The changes were slow and I never really noticed how much things had changed and how much they hadn't. To me it was like returning home. In a way it truly was as not only did I live there, but my wife, while a college student, moved to the area from Tokyo with her parents who had bought a house not far from where I lived. I have been visiting my wife's house for almost 20 years now and it really does feel like my own and I am truly treated as one of the family.

Odakyu Sagamihara, where I lived for 12 years (1973-1985), has really undergone many major changes mostly in the construction of high rise apartment buildings and condominiums otherwise known as "mansions". Gone are the one or two story buildings that surrounded the station. What used to be an empty lot that I used to practice baseball in with a few local men is now replaced by six story mansions. Many of the mom and pop shops that used to surround the station are gone and replaced by four story parking facilities or shopping buildings or, again, mansions. Many of the small restaurants, shops, and snacks on the side streets are still there though. The "Dove Store" otherwise known as Ito Yokado is now owned by 7-11 and is called 7i or 7 holdings.

The McDonalds at the station, where I first met my wife 26 years ago, and the Odakyu Ox department store have been torn down for what will be a 20 story mansion complex above the train station complete with shopping and restaurants on the first few floors. Construction began last year and they are half way through it already. If one rents or buys there, one need only take an elevator for shopping or eating and to catch the train to work. While in Japan last year we checked into buying one but they were already sold out!

The Yokohama bank where I had an account and dated a teller for a while is still there.

The roads are still narrow and have not been widened nor have any sidewalks been added. Still it is quaint and familiar. My old apartment is still there and it is one of the oldest in the neighborhood now! It looks that way too as it has not received a face lift since it was built more than 30 years ago and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the mailbox I bought when I first moved into it in 1977 is still there also. The bar across the street where I first met Mr. Suzuki has now been re-renovated as part of a house. The rest of the houses in the neighborhood are still as they were, although many have received face lifts and the older houses have been torn down and replaced by newer ones. A few of the larger houses with much land have been sold and there are now three or four houses where in the past there was one or they have been replaced by parking lots.

The Chujitsuya department store (or what we in the military used to call "The Flower Store" because of it's symbol of a flower) across from the pachinko parlor where I made my living during my last year of University has been replaced by a 10 story mansion. The mom and pop restaurant where I ate many meals 2 minutes from my apartment has also been re-renovated as part of a house. The neighborhood vegetable store, cleaners and sakaya-san (liquor store) are still there and I always make sure to say hello when I visit. The proprietors are now in their sixties or more, but they are still working as is the mama-san at the karaoke bar/snack "Tsuyuki" that I so often visited on an almost daily basis many years ago. She must be at least 70 now! Alot of the former mom and pop stores like the TV store and such are now gone replaced by huge department stores like Bic Camera, Yodobashi Camera, or Dai Kuma.

I still see my Japanese friends every visit and we are now in our 50's or 60's and some are, or set to become, grandparents and some have passed on. Still, it is like nothing ever changed between us. We reminisce about the times we used to go out "girl hunting" (is that phrase still used today?) at discos in Roppongi and smoking weed, and carrying the Omikoshi (shrine) at festivals on weekends and the weekend local baseball games. We remember the motorcycle rides late at night and on the weekends and staying one step ahead of the police and the beginnings of Karaoke on 8 track tapes in snacks when we had to pay 100 yen for each song! I could go on and on, but I guess you get the picture.

As the train made its way towards Shinjuku I also noticed many changes along the way. The majority of the Odakyu line from Sagami Ono to Shinjuku is now four tracks instead of two to accommodate the express trains and the "Romance Car" luxury express and construction is still going on expanding that line. All of the local stations have been expanded accommodate 10 cars instead of four, and mansions abound now at many of the stations. I remember when Shin-Yurigaoka was built and was nothing but empty fields. Today, those fields are now replaced by houses, many houses, and department stores and what have you. Siejo Gakkuen Mae station used to above ground. Today it is underground as is Yamato station going towards/coming from Fujisawa and Enoshima.

The US Army hospital I used to work at Sagami Ono is gone, replaced by stores and a housing complex, and the station itself has been rebuilt into a huge shopping complex with a bus and taxi depot. As a matter of fact, it is quite nice to be able to take the bus from Narita airport to Sagami Ono station now and then a short taxi ride home.

I turned and noticed the people sitting in their seats or standing. Back in the day people would read on the train or listen to mini radios with an earplug for entertainment, or just sleep and nothing has changed much in that department. My first experience into something really technological for the train was when the Sony Walkman first debuted in about 1979. You just weren't cool if you didn't have one on the train or when walking. It was a great experience to be able to listen to your own favorite music on a cassette tape anywhere and anytime you desired, inside your home or outside. Today many people take that experience for granted. As I glance around the train today I see the majority of people looking down at cell phones and texting or reading whatever on their phones. What a change. I felt so out of place not looking at a phone that I actually thought about taking my US cell phone out of my bag and opening it just to look like I belonged! How lame is that? As has always been the case in Japan and elsewhere, people tend to shut themselves off from the rest of the world while on the train by reading, listening to music or just sleeping. No one said a word to anyone. It's amazing how quite Japanese trains can be.

Trains didn't start to be air-conditioned until around 1978 and I believe by 1985 they were all air-conditioned. It was sheer torture riding one in rush hour with just an overhead fan. Often it was I who opened a window for air and a breeze as most Japanese didn't want to be the first to make the move! And the air-conditioner would not be turned on until the first week in June regardless of how hot it was.

Also, back then air conditioning was an unaffordable luxury and I never had one until 1985! The only places that had "air con" were a few department stores and coffee shops and, of course, pachinko parlors. How did I survive the summers and sleep at night? Open windows, mosquito killer incense, and an oscillating fan, that's how! But I do look back on the sultry summers with a sense of nostalgia!

There is now a recording in English on the trains informing people of the next stop and even the station map above the doors is now digitalized and in both English and Japanese. Man, I sure could've used that when I first started living in Japan, but then again I may have not taken the time to memorize the Kanji for all the stations.

I am just amazed that in 30 years overall prices have hardly moved. Coke and juice is still around 100 yen and cans are usually 350ml now, but there are still the smaller cans for sale at the same price. Apartment prices are very reasonable now and a 2DK apartment about a 10 minute walk from the station can still be rented for around 30-50,000 yen/month and a mansion goes for 50-80,000 yen or more. I paid 30,000 yen/month for the 2DK place (with bath!) I rented 30 yrs ago seven minutes from the station! A 3LDK mansion can be bought for anywhere from 19,000,000 yen on up to 40,000,000 yen for a brand new one near, or on, the station! That is very reasonable in my opinion and comparable to any major city in the US. Even a decent house can be bought for around 20,500,000 to 30,000,000 yen these days. The reason why I left Japan in 1988 was because the price of the mansion I wanted to buy went from 8,000,000 yen to 28,000,000 yen in 2 1/2 years! And that was in the boonies of Yokohama! Also, you couldn't buy a house for under 40,000,000 yen at the peak of the boom. Yes, housing and land prices have really come down since I left.

A medium bottle of beer can still be had for around 5-600 yen in a snack although it is still expensive to buy beer in a store and it is still 5-600 yen for a whisky and water! The price for a loaf of Yamazaki bread is still around 150 yen and food prices have remained relatively stable. Unbelievable! The biggest change I have seen, other than housing, is in the price of whiskey both imported and domestic. I could hardly believe that a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey could now be bought in Japan for less than I'd pay for the same bottle here in Tennessee where it is made! Beer in Japan is still expensive, but at least there is Chu Hai with 7% alcohol content! I could drink that stuff forever as it tastes like soda pop with a hell of a kick! Plus, there are now a variety of cheap beers for about half the price of premium beers.

It is really cheaper to eat in McDonalds in Japan than it is in the US and I remember when the first "Makudonaludo's" appeared in the mid 70's! When the one opened at Odakyu Sagamihara station in about 1974 my friend and I ate two Big Macs each that day! Also, for about 1,200 (US$3.60) you could eat all you want for lunch at Shakey's Pizza back then.

Clothing prices in Japan are now reasonable, especially if you shop at Uni Qlo. There, you could buy clothing for what you would pay in the states or less. Cosmetics and personal hygiene products, for both men and women, are still way over priced as they always were. Prices for fiber-optic, high speed cable is way cheaper than I pay for broadband here in the US! Here I pay $55/month for broadband at about 1mb/sec and forget fiber-optic. That is not due for 3-4 years! Cable TV is another $50 for just basic cable and no premium channels!

Yen is now around 123/US$. When I left permanently in 1988 it was 128! Not much of a change if you ask me.

Don't be fooled into believing that all of Japan is more expensive than the US or maybe your own industrialized country. In my experience and opinion it is no less expensive to live in my small suburb of Tokyo/Yokohama than living here in the suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee and that includes housing!

One thing I have always noticed for 30 years and the same holds true today is that, if someone sits next to you on a train, male or female, and they are studying the English language, they will more often than not pull out that book or text and read it while seated next to you. Coincidence? I don't know. Back in the day it was an easy way to make a friend or meet someone of the opposite sex if you said something like, "Are you studying English?" It still amazes me to this day and at my age (52), how many people of both sexes still do it as their way of maybe saying, "I know a little English and would like to meet/talk to you, but I am too shy and not sure if you speak English also." One person even pulled out the NHK book in French. Granted, most of the people that did it this last trip were closer to my age than in the past, but there was one younger female in her late twenties or early thirties who did this that I thought, "If only I were..." Anyway, I digress.

People do seem a little more withdrawn and a little more shut off from society these days, but then again, the Japanese always seemed to be that way, especially the younger generation. I guess the advance in technology today enables them to be more withdrawn. In a way I kind of understand as I spend way too much time on my computer and the internet these days myself and can get lost in a world all to myself complete with video chats with people from not only Japan but all over the world.

TV has not changed in all these years. The programming is still basically the same with the famiry doramas, silly game shows, sports, cartoons, morning shows for housewives, mystery dramas in the evening that always include a murder, and the sexual content on late night TV etc.

As the train made it way towards Shinjuku, had I not been back every year I think I would be shocked at the numerous 20 story or more skyscrapers now dotting the skyline in one of the most earthquake prone countries in the world as well as the numerous, high story mansions now popping up everywhere! I wonder what will happen when the "big one" hits as is inevitable. I guess only time will tell. They sure must've made some great strides in quake-proofing buildings.

Yes, Japan has changed very much on the outside these past 30 years, but for all its changes, at least on the inside, culturally, it remains the same and has not really changed that much to me. Unknown neighbors still greet even a foreigner with a slight head nod and an "Ohayo" or "Konnichiwa" and hardly anyone is shocked to hear a foreigner speaking Japanese. There is hardly any finger pointing and giggles from Japanese school kids as in the past when they encounter a foreigner and I don't believe I have experienced it in many years. I have also noticed that the Japanese, overall, are now not so shocked to see a foreigner or have one walk into their place of business and I have yet to experience being turned away from a place like a bar or snack if I walk in alone. There is much less "panic" than in the past. I guess knowing the language a bit and not being afraid to use it or make mistakes helps, I don't know.

As I exited the train at Shinjuku I made my way quickly, but silently, like an expert walking through a maze, through the crowds towards the JNR train that would take me to my destination. Damn, it is crowded this afternoon, but I am home and I do so much love it crowds and all.

Some may think that I am trying to relive my past or living in a fantasy world, but I beg to differ as Japan is more home to me and I am more comfortable there than in my own country and I have lived here in Tennessee for 18 1/2 years now. Still, it is only temporary, like being assigned overseas for a company or something, and I yearn for the day in a few short years when I will return "home" permanently. Maybe it will sink in when I am turned down for my first house or mansion, but it's not like I've never experienced it before and it really doesn't bother me as I know, sooner or later, I will find what I am looking for. Plus, I know Japan is not perfect and has its warts, but doesn't everywhere?

I understand that the past can never be recaptured, but it is fun to relive some of the most memorable times of my entire life. Maybe it's because I became an adult in Japan and stayed for so long, I don't know. Thomas Wolfe wrote a book entitled "You Can't Go Home Again", showing that one can really never capture one's past and that people change and the home one remembers exists only in the past. Apparently he has never lived in Japan because, to me, more than 30 years later, Japan has hardly changed and the past and present seem as one, only it is a lot more modern on the outside and relatively unchanged on the inside.

I have Diverticulitis which sometimes becomes inflamed and I have to go to the doctor to receive antibiotics. The pain subsides within 24 hrs and disappears after about three days. My last problem with it occurred about 4 yrs ago.

Well, while I was visiting Japan these past few weeks it became inflamed and within 24 hrs I developed a slight fever and knew I would have to go see a doctor or go to the hospital. I was a little concerned as I had no national health insurance, but it had to be done regardless of the cost.

My wife called a doctor in the neighborhood and an appointment was made for an hour later. It was a Saturday morning and I figured it would probably be crowded. I had not received medical care in Japan since the 80's when I was living there full time and, not knowing the cost, we took 60,000 yen with us as, in the US, with no health insurance the cost would probably be at least $200 if not more.

We walked the 10 minutes to the small clinic and upon entering, after removing our shoes and using the slippers (pink for females, blue for males) I was amazed that there were only two patients there, an elderly gentleman and a woman with a baby. This was surprising for a Saturday morning as in the US on a Saturday the offices are booked solid and one must wait at least an hour over ones scheduled "appointment".

The nurse behind the counter took my basic information and asked that I take a seat and said the doctor would see me shortly. Unlike the US there were no pages and pages of info to fill out for a first time visit.

Within 10 minutes the doctor called us in and I noticed his diploma on the wall from Tokyo University. I explained my situation to him in Japanese with help from my wife and what kind of penicillin I usually take for the symptoms. He understood what I was talking about, checked his computer for reference and asked that I lie down. Locating the pain on the left side of my abdomen he asked that I take a urine test. I left the cup on the counter in the restroom and as soon as I returned to the room he said that my urine was ok. Now that was fast!

He said that he would give me a 5 day prescription for antibiotics and pain killers and that if the pain did not subside within 24 hrs that I was to return. We went to the counter and we were given the medicine right there! No pharmacy to go to! Our bill was calculated and it was presented to us.

To my astonishment the total bill for the visit, urine test and two prescriptions was 4,610 yen!! Approximately US$38 at the current exchange rate. And that was with no National Health Insurance! My wife and I looked at each other with wide open eyes. I asked her if this was the normal cost and she asked the nurse. Yes it was and they apologized for the cost with my having no health insurance. Unbelievably reasonable in my opinion and there was no need for them to apologize if they knew the cost of such a visit in the US. It was way lower than either of us expected. I felt as if I had won the lottery or something.

I calculated the cost of what this would have cost me in the US WITH insurance. The co-pays for the doctor, urine test, and two prescriptions at a pharmacy would have come out to about $60 and, with no insurance the cost would have been at least $200! This just goes to show how unreasonable medical costs are in the US.

Anyway, within a couple of days I was fine and my visit to Japan was not interrupted at all as I was still able to function thanks to the pain killers and had a wonderful time drinking beer and eating all kinds of food in Shinjuku with my friends two days later. I am very grateful that in Japan you are not ripped off for emergency medical care even if you have no health insurance and are a foreigner.

Therefore, if you are visiting Japan and become ill, don't fear that it will cost you an arm and a leg if you have to receive care as the costs are very reasonable to one without insurance.

Are the Japanese really an honorable and honest people as most people seem to think or are they just like everybody else? A lot of people seem to think they are. Some say it is because they are of one race and ethnicity. Some say it's because of the group mentality thinking. Others say it's because of their deep rooted culture based on codes of the samurai with bushido and the similar codes of the Yakuza. Others say it's because of their morals and upbringing. And, still, others say it's because of the dense population and close proximity to each other that one has to think about another's feelings so as not to disturb their "Wa" (harmony). I don't know the correct answer, but I do know one thing, and that is, in one experience of mine, I was grateful that at least one person was honest and honorable.

This experience occurred when I was a university student. I also had a part-time job teaching English to businessmen and college students at a small school I worked at during the week and on Saturdays. We were always paid in cash on the 25th of the month. I had adopted the bad habit of carrying around one of those long rectangular wallets that I had received as a gift from a friend of mine. Maybe you've seen them. They are thin, sometimes made out of leather or silk, and are long enough to hold Japanese bills without them being folded. A lot of businessmen carry one in the inside breast pocket of their suit jacket as do many Yakuza and Chinpira (young Yakuza in Training)

It was a fashion trend back then to have one prominently sticking out of your back pocket as it kind of made you look cool and fashionable. (And we all know how important it is to be fashionable and "with the times" in Japan.) Why they were carried like that I don't know because they could easily be lifted from your back pocket and pickpockets are well known in Japan. However, I was told that that was rare.

Anyway, to look like I "belonged" and cool, I started carrying one about two months prior. When I got paid this particular day, I put the twelve 10,000 notes in the wallet, stuffed it in my back pocket and started out for home after my classes ended at 9pm. I got a seat on the train and slept most of the way.

When I got to my train station I proceeded up the stairs with the crowd to the ticket taker. I reached around for my wallet to show my train pass and it was gone! It had everything in there, my train pass, my money, my bank card, important phone numbers, student ID, etc. Luckily it didn't have my gaijin card in there as back then it was a little booklet that wouldn't fit in any kind of wallet and I always kept it in the other back pocket.

It's amazing how many thoughts can go through one's head in a split second. I instantly panicked thinking how I was going to pay my rent and bills this month. I knew for sure right then and there that I would never see it again and it was gone forever. I figured I was pick-pocketed while walking to the train or getting off. With Shinjuku station being so crowded and with the crowd getting off the train, I could understand how easily someone could have lifted it without my ever knowing it.

I explained my plight to the ticket taker and he pointed me to an office. I went in and explained my predicament to the station master. He asked me for a complete description of the wallet and its contents. He also asked for proof of who I was and luckily I had my gaijin card. I explained that I probably lost it after I got on the Odakyu line at Shinjuku as I had to show my train-pass for entry. He wrote everything down and made a few phone calls to the major express stops along the Odakyu line. From his conversations I knew he wasn't having any luck. After his last phone call to Shinjuku station he hung up the phone, looked at me apologetically, and said that I might have better luck checking back with him in the morning.

Even though our conversation was conducted in Japanese, he never seemed surprised that I could speak Japanese, nor did he try to speak to me in English. He was professional throughout and treated me, I guess, as he would any Japanese person.

I went down the stairs of the train station and walked home in utter despair. I kept thinking how stupid I was to carry that thing in my pocket like that knowing that it could've been so easily lifted. I had no money on me whatsoever save for a couple of 100 yen and other coins and the banks and ATM's were closed. Being single, I usually ate dinner out as it only cost 4 or 500 yen and I couldn't even eat that night. I did have some ramen, eggs and bread at home though, so it wouldn't be a total loss.

When I got home, I was still so despondent that I wasn't even hungry. I just sat at my kotatsu and stared into space thinking about the 120,000 plus yen that I had just lost. I quickly did some calculating, got out my bank book, and figured that all was not that bad as I still had just enough money in the bank to pay my rent and bills and buy a new train pass. Then I thought about my student ID as I couldn't buy a student-discount train pass without one; and my bank card. I couldn't even go to an ATM. It would take a couple of days to get a new student ID and at least a week to get a new bank card.

After about an hour or so I thought that I was not going to let this screw up my life. It's gone and there's nothing I can do about it. I chalked it up to a "stupid tax" that one pays going through life's experiences. Besides, there is still tomorrow. Even if I just got back the wallet with my student ID and train pass I would be happy as the train pass cost me about 7,500 yen for a three month pass and I just bought it the previous month!

I was now feeling a bit hungry and decided that I was going to go out to eat and get drunk. I wandered over to the little snack across the street from my apartment and asked the mama-san if I could pay her tomorrow and explained what had happened to me. Without so much as a second thought she told me not to worry about it and that I could pay tomorrow or whenever I could. I quickly ordered a beer and some food.

After a while my good friend Suzuki-san walked in with his ever present dog, Jiro, on his back. Mama-san explained to him what had happened. He immediately said that he was paying my tab that night and I was not to worry. As I ate and we talked, I thought about what a great country this is and what good friends I had made. Here a foreigner loses his months pay and his Japanese friends step in to help him out. Mr. Suzuki even offered me 10,000 yen to tide me over, but I refused as I told him I would be going to the bank in the morning.

We drank and sang a few songs and then I went home. As I lay in the futon waiting for sleep to befall me, I still couldn't stop thinking about the lost wallet.

I awoke the next morning, started up the kerosene heater, put my futon away, made some coffee and watched a little TV. After about an hour I got out my bank book and my hanko (official seal with my name on it), put them in my bag, turned off the heater, and ventured on up to the train station and the station masters office in the hopes that someone may have found my wallet and turned it in. But I still highly doubted it.

The station master was a different person, but he had all my information. When I told him who I was he said, "hai, hai," yes, yes, and went on to explain that my wallet had indeed been found and I could pick it up at Hon-Atsugi station, a short distance away, as that was where it was turned in. I breathed a sigh of relief and asked him if there was any money in it. He said he didn't know. I was just so glad that at least I might get back the train pass, my student ID card, and my bank card. I wasn't so much worried about the train pass and my bank card as, unless it was a young person who pick-pocketed me, they wouldn't be able to use my train pass as it had "STUDENT" stamped in bold kanji on it. Also, they couldn't use my bank card either as they didn't know my PIN number.

As I had enough money to buy a ticket to Hon-Atsugi, I didn't bother wasting any time going to the bank as, if my money was indeed stolen, I would go to the bank at Hon-Atsugi station. I purchased a ticket and a can of hot coffee from one of the vending machines and sat on the bench waiting for my train to arrive.

It was a sunny day. A brisk March wind was blowing and I was warmed by the coffee. It was one of those days when the sun was bright, the air was crisp with just a hint of spring, the sky was picture perfect blue, and you were just glad to be alive. I just hoped I would feel the same after getting my wallet back.

After about five minutes I heard the familiar female voice announcing that the train was arriving and to stay behind the yellow line. I boarded the first car as I usually did and stood behind the engineer as I always enjoyed the view from this perspective.

Five stops later I was at Hon-Atsugi and found my way to the station masters office. I told him who I was and produced my gaijin card as proof. He asked me to identify the contents in detail and I did. He then went around a partition and after a few agonizingly long minutes came back. He had my wallet and a piece of paper in his hand. I was relieved as all hell. He laid my wallet on the counter and explained that the piece of paper he was giving me had the name, address, and phone number of the person who had found my wallet and turned it in. He said that I should call them and thank them. I said that I would. He asked if he should write the information in romaji and I told him that he needn't bother as I could read Japanese. He then asked me to check the contents of the wallet. As I opened it I was dumbfounded that every single item in my wallet was still there right down to the money! Nothing was missing, not even a 500 yen note! It was all there! I signed a piece of paper accepting my wallet and it's contents and that nothing was missing. This time I put my wallet in my bag and vowed that I would use a normal wallet from now on. No more trying to look cool.

As I left the station masters office I bowed and thanked him and headed for my train back home. I still couldn't help but be awestruck that my wallet was turned in and that nothing was missing. I really expected the money to be gone at least. If this happened in the States, I'm sure I'd never see it again. The odds there were against me especially with all that cash in it. But some kind person may just as well have turned it in there also.

As I rode the train home I just couldn't get over it. I had heard that the Japanese were an honest people, but this was just unbelievable. I looked at the paper and the name on it written in Japanese. It was a woman's name and she lived in Atsugi city.

After I got to my own station I went immediately to a phone booth and dialed the number. A lady answered and it was she. I immediately guessed she was probably in her 40's or so and told her who I was. I thanked her for finding my wallet and turning it in. She seemed more worried than I was as it had my bank card and train pass in it. She said that she noticed it on the seat of the train after I had gotten off. As the doors were already closed, she decided to turn it in at her station after finding no phone number for me in the wallet. She said that she worried about it all night as she knew I would be bothered by my loss. Leave it to the Japanese to be more concerned about the other person! She complimented me on my Japanese and I thanked her profusely and finally said good bye. Come to think of it, I'm sure I was also bowing my head while thanking her on the phone.

After hanging up the phone I immediately went to a nearby post office where I purchased an envelope. I asked for a sheet of paper from the postal person and wrote a thank you note in Japanese to this kind lady. After I signed my name, I reached into my bag for my wallet, opened it and removed a 10,000 yen note. I placed the note in the envelope and sealed it up; wrote down her address in Japanese and turned it in to the postal person. I had learned somewhere that it is a custom in Japan to pay a reward to the person finding, and turning in, a lost item. I fulfilled this custom.

As I left the post office and headed home I was more than happy that I was living in a country where some people do think about, and feel for others, including foreigners. The golden rule, so far as I knew, applied to Japan. And, as a side note, I still have that green silk wallet to this day. Once in a while I'll go through my boxes, see it, and remember this experience.

It is said that foreigners living in Japan for any length of time develop what is known as a love-hate relationship with the country due to culture shock after the initial honeymoon ends. This usually occurs about one to three years in and, depending on how one handles it, will usually determine that persons future outlook and opinion on the country when they depart. For some it may last a year or two and they just learn to accept the country, culture, and laws and go on enjoying their time living there. And for others, they never get over the culture shock and end up despising Japan for everything it is and leave with a bitter taste in their mouth.

I was in the former category as I was two years discharged from the military in-country, a university student, and was grappling with the culture shock of living by myself in Japan away from the American comforts and culture I had known on base for four years.

One must understand that just because one "lives in" Japan with the military it is no different than living in the states as inside the gates you really are in America with the food, housing, culture, shopping, TV, etc. You are only "in" Japan when you walk out the gates. Therefore, living on the base is nowhere near the same as living and working off base. So even though I may have been "in" Japan for six years I was actually "living in" Japan for about two and a half years if that makes any sense. Anyway, I was going through my love-hate relationship with Japan when the following experience occurred.

In Japan a foreigner is required by law to have their Alien Registration Card, commonly called the "Gaijin Card", or his passport on their person at all times when out and about. Failure to produce either document when asked by a policeman can really land one in hot water as I was to find out one night.

Back in the late 70's video rental stores started popping up in Japan and they were promoting a new service where they would copy a full length commercial movie onto a video cassette for the measly price of about 500yen per movie if you provided the cassette or 1,000yen if they provided it. (Record stores started this trend in the early 70's with the copying of albums onto cassette tapes for a similar price.) It didn't matter if it was a US movie or a Japanese movie; the price was still the same and they were copied from laser discs, so the quality was high. This was better than sliced bread at the time as one could now own movies or albums for a fraction of their original cost which were quite high in Japan and view them in the comfort of ones home. I think a music album was selling for about 3- 5,000 yen and a movie would sell for about 15,000 yen back then; very high prices at the time. This was all legal and the record and movie companies didn't start complaining until some years later.

One must remember here that the advent of the home video recorder was only a couple of years old at the time so this was something special and exciting to those that could afford a VCR back then. To be able to watch commercial movies in your own home was just unbelievable at the time.

Anyway, I had become a member of one of these video stores when I purchased my first VCR back in about 1979/1980 (cost me about $1,000 at the time (about 250,000yen!) It was worth every yen back then for this new technology and I started having movies recorded like crazy. The first movie I had recorded was "Casablanca". I was ordering a few movies a week and would always ride my bicycle to order and pick them up.

One night I was returning from the video store at about 11pm on my bicycle when I noticed the familiar flashing red lights of a Japanese police car that had passed me in the opposite lane and made a u-turn to come up behind me. Okay, I thought, they're probably just going to ask me for my gaijin card. No problem. My bicycle light was on so this was just going to be a routine stop. I've been through this a few times in the past several years so I figured no sweat.

I stopped my bicycle and waited for them to come up to me. Two policemen approached from the rear, one on either side of me. Seeing that I was a foreigner one started speaking in really, I mean really, bad broken English.

"Goodu ebiningu sah. Ah you fromu Zama campu?" I answered in English that I was not from the base and that I was a student. Seeing that he was having a little difficulty with the word student I quickly answered in fluent Japanese as I wanted to get back home and watch my new movie. He replied in Japanese that he was surprised that I could speak Japanese and asked what I was doing and where I was going. I told him. He then asked for my gaijin card. "Sure", I replied, and reached around to my back pocket to retrieve it. To my utter astonishment it wasn't there! I realized that I had left it home on my kotatsu (small Japanese table with a heater under it)! What an idiot! This was like the first time I ever left my home without my gaijin card and I get stopped by the police! I think the last time I was asked for my gaijin card was maybe three years previous.

With my heart beating real fast, I told the officer, in the politest Japanese I could muster up, that I left it home and that if they would come to my apartment, I would show it to him. He didn't know what to do and asked his partner. His partner said that they could just take me home and see if it was there and check it. The questioning officer sucked air, scratched the back of his head, and said he was unsure and would have to check with his superiors. As he walked back to his car to get on the radio with his superiors I thought to myself what a couple of morons these two were! Couldn't they make a decision by themselves? This seemed so simple, I thought.

Well, what may seem like a simple solution to foreigners was not as simple to the Japanese as I was about to find out.

After a couple of minutes, the questioning officer returned and said that they would take me home and have a look at my gaijin card. Whew, was I relieved. They loaded my bicycle into the trunk and I got into the back seat for the five minute ride to my apartment.

During the ride the other officer turned to me and said in Japanese, "What kind of movies did you have recorded? Porno movies?" and he laughed. I told him that they were just US movies, but I had a feeling he didn't believe me. What an asshole, I thought to myself. Tonight was not porno movie night. I usually did that on weekends.

When we got to my apartment, they unloaded my bicycle and escorted me into my apartment. They didn't even wait in the genkan (entranceway). They entered my apartment like they belonged there! I showed them that my gaijin card was on my kotatsu and gave it to the questioning officer. He looked it over while the other officer walked around my apartment opening a drawer, my clothes closet and the closet where I kept my futon. I found this rather repulsive and an invasion of my privacy as I didn't think he had a right to do that. But I didn't say anything as it was I who broke the law and could've been arrested or taken in for not having my gaijin card on me. I felt I was real lucky for not being taken in.

The questioning officer said that everything was ok and said he was just going out to the car to let his superiors know. Before leaving he mentioned that he was surprised that I had a typical Japanese apartment with no furniture other than a TV, a desk, a clothes closet, and a few small cabinets (also known as "Color Boxes" in Japan) that held my phone and other personal effects. I told him that I was very comfortable living this way and rather enjoyed it. He said that he expected to find a typical American style living arrangement with a sofa, coffee table, kitchen table, etc.

Anyway, he went out to the patrol car and the other officer just made small talk about the university I was attending, if I liked Japanese food, etc. etc. All the things I have been asked a countless number of times before by Japanese people and I answered as politely as I could.

After a few minutes the questioning officer came back in, bowed and apologized to me because he would have to take me in to the station! WHAT? It seems his superiors had checked the regulations and the regulations said that any foreigner that did not have his gaijin card with him at the time of being asked for it had to be taken to the police station. This was really turning into a nightmare now. I had showed them my gaijin card. It was legal. It proved I was a student. Why in God's name did they have to take me to the station? Just because I didn't have my gaijin card on my person a mere 5 minutes distance from my apartment? Can't anyone in this country make a decision by themselves? Must they always go word for word by the book?

In Japan, the sad answer is yes as everyone is afraid to make a decision for themselves. I had seen this before in any number of situations in Japan where no one is willing to make a decision without first checking the rules, or with their superiors, or with the group. When in doubt (which they always seem to be), they go by the book. Well, it seems even this officer's superiors couldn't make a decision on this one either, and even THEY had to check with the regulations and were going by the book. How simple, I thought, would it be for someone to say, "Ok, no problem. Your gaijin card is in order, just don't forget it again." Case closed. But nooooo. Not in Japan.

So, the questioning officer apologized again and offered to give me a ride back home after questioning. Big deal! I thought. Thanks a lot! I was then driven to the police station in Zama city where I was questioned for almost two hours! This may surprise some as it sure as hell surprised the hell out of me. But not only did they ask for information about me, but also about my family, my mother and father, my brothers and sisters, their names, addresses, ages, names and ages of their husbands/wives, children, if any, and just about anything you could think of. The information was extremely personal and quite unnecessary and a severe invasion of my privacy. But this was their country and I had broken their law. I was probably questioned as they would question any Japanese, as they were reading from a book on this interrogation!

Although I gave the correct names of my family I gave them false addresses as I figured this was none of their business and if they did check, and it was found to be false, I would just tell them that they must've moved. They never checked. It was just routine questioning they probably ask of anyone and everyone, Japanese or not.

After this questioning was over, I was informed that I would receive a summons to appear in court in Yokohama and that it would be in my best interest to have a formal letter of apology ready to hand to the judge so that he may go light on me. Go light on me? I thought. What for? For not having my gaijin card on me? Jeeze, what a strict country! And how senseless, I thought, for something as simple as not having one's gaijin card on their person. I was also told that I could receive a financial penalty, be deported from the country, or maybe even receive some jail time! Oh great. Now I may be even kicked out of the country for just forgetting my gaijin card. (I really didn't think I would receive any jail time for such a small infraction.) And with only a year or so left until graduation to boot!

I was then taken home by the same two officers who apologized to me again. I was then summoned back to the police station a week or so later for further questioning by two detectives who asked me the same questions I answered previously. How redundant. But hey, this is Japan. Live in Japan and you live by their rules and laws no matter how silly I think they might be.

Well, in Japan, as the old saying goes, their bark is worse than their bite. I received my notice to appear in court in Yokohama about two months later. I dressed in a suit and had my letter of apology in hand, written in Japanese by a friend of mine to ensure there were no mistakes and who also went with me to court. I appeared before the judge and the charges against me were read. I bowed real low, apologized, and handed my formal letter of apology to him. After he read it he said that I had broken a law and that since I was remorseful, no action would be taken against me. However, he said that if I was caught without my gaijin card again I could receive jail time, be fined, be deported from the country or all three! I was then dismissed with no fine or other action against me. I bowed real low and left.

As we rode the train home I reflected on the hassle and worry I went through these past couple of months for something as simple (to me) as not having my gaijin card on my person when asked for it. But it did not diminish my view on Japan or my love for the country as this was the law where I was residing and, like any Japanese person, I was expected to obey the law no matter how inane and senseless it seemed to me.

In Japan rules are rules and the law is the law, and everyone is expected, and required to, follow the law, but the courts are really quite lenient when one shows true remorse as I was to find out later on when I got busted for possession of an illegal substance.

Needless to say, I never forgot my gaijin card again and I recommend that if you live in, or are visiting Japan, do not get caught without your gaijin card or passport as you just may be in for the hassle of your life.

Pachinko, an upright pinball machine, is a "legalized" form of gambling in Japan where gambling is illegal and today, if one is lucky and knows when to quit, it is possible to make a living out of playing it. This is the story of how I survived for about ten months playing only pachinko.

I started playing Pachinko while in the military back in 1973 when, out of curiosity, I entered a small place near the base. It soon became one of my favorite past times when I had nothing better to do. Since I was so green to Japan at the time with barely any knowledge of the language, I never won more than a couple of thousand yen on the rare days that I did win. Back then yen was 300/US$1 so my winnings never totaled more than $10-$13, but it was still good money when your monthly salary was about $360 a month and a beer cost 300 yen at a bar.

Also, all the machines were manual at the time in that you had to shoot the balls by operating a lever with your thumb and hope the balls would fall into one of the five or so "tulips" placed strategically on the board where you would win 15 balls for opening the tulip and 15 more for closing it (which was much easier than opening it.) 30 balls cost 100 yen. I found it intriguing

and it was a good way to pass a rainy Saturday afternoon before hitting the nightspots as a few hours seemed like a few minutes. Also, it was interesting to see how lucky one could get. Most of my friends found it boring, but I enjoyed it.

I had heard that gambling was illegal in Japan and since I had only a rudimentary knowledge of Japanese at the time I didn’t know that you could convert your winnings into cash. Therefore, I only took my winnings in the prizes like lighters, cigarettes, or food and snacks that I would store in my room on the base. After I heard about the loophole in the law from my Japanese friends that you could win cash by exchanging small packets of flint at a little kiosk off the premises, I always took my winnings in cash. Winning cash seemed to make it that much more interesting and fun. After all there was only so many lighters or "Cup O' Noodle" one could have. At this time I also did not know any of the techniques of playing the game like looking at the width of the pins above the tulips or judging the speed of the balls. I just watched where everyone else was placing their ball when maneuvering the lever and I did the same.

I continued playing it every now and then and became an avid player in my college days beginning in 1977. I didn't win much and on some days I would lose two or three thousand yen while on others I would profit anywhere from four to seven thousand yen for a minimum investment. I didn't play but maybe 2-3 times a week, but I usually won more than I lost as I learned how to "read" the machines by the width of the pins and the speed of the balls.

By 1980 all machines had been converted to automatic in that there was now a handle that one turned to adjust the speed and placement of the balls instead of a manually operated lever that often left regular players with a calloused thumb and middle finger and the speed of the balls was controlled electronically by computer. Also, instead of just tulips for the balls to fall into, the center area had things like the wings of an airplane that would open once or twice when a ball fell into one of three holes and this increased the speed of the game and your winnings. If a ball fell into a small center hole (which was only the width of the ball itself) in this center piece, a "bonus" would be paid in that the wings would open 10 times in succession. For each ball that fell in, 15 would come out. And, during this "bonus time", if another ball happened to fall into the center hole before 10 balls fell into the other two wide holes, you could continue up to 10 times. If this happened 5 or 6 times in a short period of time, you would win about 2,500-3,000 balls which was equal to about 5,000-7,000 yen in winnings. The machine would be closed and you either left with your winnings or continued playing on another machine. Also, it usually took anywhere from an hour or two to five, six, or maybe even seven hours to "close" a machine if you were lucky enough to find a "good" one.

If anyone knows anything about Pachinko it is this: YOU ALWAYS WIN ON THE FIRST FEW DAYS OF A PARLOR INSTALLING NEW MACHINES. The machines are loose and maybe 90% of the people win to entice them to come back with their winnings. After a couple of days things return to normal. About 2-3 times per year a parlor will install new machines. Not all the machines are replaced. Maybe 20-50 or more depending on the size of the parlor, but it's enough to fill the place with customers for a few days as all machines are loose.

Sometime in early 1981 a new type of pachinko machine was introduced called the "Fever" and "Bravo" type that would change the industry forever.

I was in my senior year at Sophia University and a contract I had teaching had just expired and I was in between jobs and wondering what I was going to do for money. Do I sign a new contract with them or maybe find something different closer to home or that paid more?

I had just gotten off the train about 5pm and was walking home when I heard the familiar music of a pachinko parlor indicating that they had new machines. Back then they used to hire a group of musicians in traditional garb who played the flute, drums and a cymbal like instrument outside. Now they just have a bunch of huge artificial flowers outside and include fliers in the newspapers. One can always tell when a place has new machines when you see 100 or so people lined up outside about 3 or 4pm on the first day and around noon on the second and third day.

Why not give it a shot I thought. It was free money and I could always use 4 or 5,000 yen. The place was already opened and I went in. Practically 75% of the machines had been replaced with a new type that I had never seen before. They were called "Bravo" and "Fever" machines. They were the first computerized, digitalized pachinko machines and would change the industry, the speed of the game, and payouts, forever. Instead of the familiar wings of an airplane or something else in the center that would open when a ball went into a special slot, this was a new type that had what looked like a slot machine in the center.

The "Bravo" type of machine had three digitalized numbers, and the "Fever" type resembled a slot machine in that the center three reels would spin. The place was packed and luckily I found an empty "Bravo" machine. I looked around and saw that a lot of people had large boxes of balls sitting on the floor. More than I had ever seen before. Wow, I thought, this place is really loose.

I sat down and put in my usual 200 yen for 60 balls. This was pretty cool. When a ball went into a hole in the middle, under the numbers, the three sets of numbers would spin like a slot machine. The directions said that if the numbers stopped on "333" or "777" it would pay out a bonus 15 times. If it stopped on "337" or "773" a small bonus would be paid. I didn't understand this, but continued to play. I lost my 200 yen and put in more as I knew I would eventually win. This was really cool and was more interesting than the other types of machines.

After investing about 1,000 yen I hit "777". Bells went off and the machine lit up like a Christmas tree. A small tray opened up on the bottom and balls flew in. For each ball that went in I received 15 bonus balls. Balls were coming out like crazy and so fast that I had a hard time scooping them into the small box. An attendant came over and gave me a big box that I knew held 2,500-3,000 balls. I thought I broke the machine or something as something like this had never happened before. After 10 balls went in, the tray would close and open again. 10 more balls and so on until it did it 15 times. All in all the machine spit out about 3,000 balls as a jackpot. I had a huge box of balls that I knew was worth about 7,000 yen at the exchange rate of 2.5 yen per ball.

To my surprise they didn't close the machine on me like they usually do when you win that many balls. Usually when you won about 2,500-3,000 balls they would close the machine and sell it for 500 yen later in the day. A closed machine indicated that the pins were open quite wide. This was unbelievable! It used to take at least 3-5 hours or more with the other types of machines to win this many balls. And I did it in a matter of minutes!

I continued playing and within 20 minutes I hit "333". Jackpot! Another 3,000 or so balls. The machine was closed, a cart was brought, and my 2 boxes of balls were wheeled to the counter. Wow! I knew I had about 15,000 yen here. I opted for cash and came out with about 14,000 yen in profit! I'm going to try this again.

Back in I went, found another empty machine and within 2,000 yen I hit it again and about 45 minutes later I hit it again! Closed again and this time about 13,000 yen in winnings. This is unbelievable.

Back in I went. This time it took a little longer to hit the Jackpot. Maybe about an hour or more, but the funny thing was that I only put in 500 yen. Balls kept falling in the center hole like crazy as the pins for this hole to spin the numbers was quite open. For every ball that fell in, 15 more would come out. Honestly, the machine never stopped spinning. I closed that machine and took away another 14,000 or so yen in about 3 hours. I decided not to push my luck, but I sure as hell would be coming back tomorrow. All in all I profited that day over 40,000 yen. I never won more than 10-12,000 in a single day before, and that was extremely rare.

The next day I was there at the noon opening time. I spent about 4 hours there and profited over 20,000 yen. (I invested about 4,000 yen) I would've stayed longer, but I had to get to classes at the university that night.

The next day I was there at noon and came away with another 20,000 or so yen in about 5 hours. Wow, this is unreal. Can these new machines be really that loose? Here I was after three days with about 80,000 yen in profit. About 2 1/2 times my rent and two-thirds of my monthly take home pay from teaching English.

Of course I was there the following day at the 10am opening. Now the honeymoon was over. Things should be back to normal. Within a couple of hours and 4,000 yen invested I closed another machine. I continued playing all day until about 6pm and came away with over 15,000 in profit. Maybe one can really make a living out of this, I thought. I heard about the so-called "Pachipros" who did nothing, but play pachinko all day, everyday. I thought it would be boring to play everyday, but this type of new machine was fun!

I continued going everyday (except Sunday as that was always the most crowded day and a day I reserved for my girlfriend) and became a regular. Some days I stayed 12 hours, but mostly I stayed until about 6pm; about eight hours. Some days I did lose 10-20,000 yen, but the majority of days I profited a minimum of 10,000 yen and the really great days I came away with 50,000 yen or more in winnings.

A couple of the regular "Pachipros" taught me a few rules on how they profit. For example:

- Never lose more than 10-20,000 yen. Just walk away and come back tomorrow.

- Set a limit on winnings. Say 10-30,000 yen. When that is reached leave, no matter how early it is (that is easier said than done!) as, more than likely, you'll lose some of it back. Aim for an average profit of 10,000 yen per day.

- If a machine is spinning well but not hitting the jackpot, take a break and go to lunch or something. They will hold the machine for 45 minutes. It might hit later as it's controlled by computer.

- Always look in the ashtray. If it is full with the same type of cigarette or looks like it has been used heavily, the machine is probably a good one. (This turned out to be true more often than not.)

There are more "rules", but I won't go into them here.

As I also became a daily patron there I made a few friends and I was given the name "Pachipro" by the regulars and welcomed into their group. There were about 15 "Pachipros" at that place who did nothing but play pachinko all day, everyday. No job, no nothing. Their only income was from pachinko and/or Pachislo, a slot machine. I now completely understood how that could be done as, for almost a year I never worked, ate out everyday, paid all my rent and bills and had money to burn at the bars at night and on the weekends, with the income from Pachinko. And it was a helluva lot of fun too.

These days I only play Pachislo. The pachinko type machines have become really sophisticated and it is really hard to win if you don't invest 10-20,000 yen or more. You can lose that in 45 min. Of course you can win with less than that invested, but not too often. (I've hit a jackpot with only 1,000 yen invested more than a few times.) They also tease you too much as there is no "small bonus" for two of three numbers anymore which comes up quite often. And instead of 15 balls coming from a spin, you now only get 5-7 depending on the machine so you have to constantly feed the machine. But, when you win, you really win. Also, they don't close machines these days. I've seen guys sitting at machines with 8, 9, 10 or more boxes and I myself have had that many! At about 4-5,000 yen per box, that is a lot of money. My best day was a couple of years ago when I won 120,000 yen in 8 hours! The Pachislo's are, in my opinion, a lot easier and I know that some Japanese would beg to differ. I guess it all depends on ones preference, but even the pachislos are becoming more like pachinko machines in that they tease you too much.

In the long run though, you can still make a living out of playing pachinko and pachislo these days. With no taxes to pay it is a damn good income if you play smart. And even today, when I return for my yearly visits, I still the same people in the same area's pachinko parlors still playing pachinko and making a living out of it!

I never did go back to teaching English that year. I graduated from Sophia University in March, 1981 and since my visa didn't expire until December, I stayed and played pachinko everyday until I left for new horizons in New York that December.

With a degree in International Business and Economics and a fairly fluent knowledge of Japanese, I would knock them dead. Big salary here I come! The Japanese economy is booming, Japanese management style is becoming the rage and I have the keys to help bridge the gap between Japanese and American companies! Unfortunately my dream didn’t pan out. With interest rates at 18% and a depression going on, no one was hiring and, even though I found a job at the Bank of Tokyo on Wall Street, I was back in Japan within a year to open my own English School and play more pachinko!

After her father was done with his bath, he came into the room and sat down. Sachiko brought him a beer along with some snacks for the both of us, poured his beer for him, and then poured me a glass. Her father raised his glass to me and I did the same and we drank our beer. I felt kind of awkward sitting there on the tatami mat floor as I couldn't speak Japanese and he couldn't speak English so we just sat there for a few minutes in silence and watched the news on TV. Since I screwed up in the bath most of the food that was on the table put away.

Sachiko, meanwhile, busied herself in the kitchen and started bringing the food for our dinner into the room and placed it around the table. She also placed a portable, electric one burner stove on the table and plugged it in. On top of this she placed a large pot filled with all kinds of vegetables and turned on the heat. In front of me was a small, shallow dish that had an egg in it. I wondered what it was for and figured it would be cooked along with the dinner somehow.

Her father had finished his beer and raised his bottle towards me and said something I didn't understand. By his gesture I gathered that he wanted me to drink up. I did, and he poured me another glass and poured one for himself. The Japanese do like their beer, I thought to myself. By now I was beginning to feel the effects of the beer as I had been drinking since my first bath. I picked at the rice crackers and continued to watch a kind of slapstick comedy that was now on the TV.

There were also some, what looked like peas in the pod, in a bowl on the table. The father would grab one and squeeze the "peas" into his mouth and place the empty pod into another bowl. Not wanting to look unsociable I also tried one. The pod was a little wet and there was salt on it. I squeezed the "peas" into my mouth and boy did they taste good. I had another and another and almost couldn't stop myself from eating them.

After a while the pot started to boil and the heat was turned down a little. Sachiko then brought in a large plate of the paper thin slices of beef we had bought that afternoon and knelt next to me at the table. With chopsticks, she began placing pieces of the meat into the pot of boiling vegetables. Her mother came in and knelt at the table also. I thought it odd that the women were kind of kneeling and the two men were sitting cross legged. Sachiko explained that we were going to eat Sukiyaki, boiled vegetables and meat. I asked about the "peas" and mentioned how good they tasted. Sachiko said that they were soy beans, also known as edamame. I had never tasted soy beans before, but they sure were good.

I asked about her brother and sister and if they were going to eat with us. Sachiko said that her brother would be going out with his friends and that her sister would be home later.

Everyone then broke their egg into the shallow bowl and began beating it with the chopsticks. I followed suit and wondered what we were going to do with the egg so I asked Sachiko. She explained that the meat and vegetables were to be taken from the pot, dipped in the raw egg, and eaten. I found this rather repulsive as I had never eaten a raw egg before.

Everyone then started dipping their chopsticks into the pot and placed a few pieces of vegetables and meat into the bowl with the raw egg and began eating. I did the same, but was awkward with the chopsticks, so Sachiko got some for me. I looked in the bowl and saw the vegetables and meat in the raw egg and wondered what it would taste like. I took the piece of meat first and, after letting as much of the raw egg drip off the meat as possible, placed it in my mouth. Hey, this is not that bad after all. I hardly tasted the egg, but the meat was delicious. I couldn't ever recall eating meat that was boiled like this before. I then tried the vegetables and they were pretty good too. I then followed suit with the family and we all ate while watching the comedy on TV.

Sachiko explained that the raw egg is supposed to cool off the hot meat and vegetables before eating while adding a little flavor to the already flavorful food. There were also some vegetables and large mushrooms that I had never tasted before, but they were all delicious. And so was the beer that seemed to never end.

I couldn't quite grasp the concept of the TV show we were watching, but everyone was laughing. It seemed that mostly everyone was yelling at each other and then, one person would slap the other in the head and the audience would roar with laughter. A few skits were shown that showed a Samurai type scene, men dressed as women, a scene in a house, etc. It seemed to be live and performed on a stage in some large hall. One thing I did notice was that there were no commercials.

As soon as I had finished a glass of beer, it was filled again. Sometimes, her father would hold up a bottle towards me and gesture me to drink while my glass was still half full. I drank up and soon was beginning to get drunk. I noticed that, after a while, her fathers face was really pink. The women drank too, but not us much as her father and I. There was a little small talk, but mostly we all sat in silence, while eating, drinking and watching TV.

Sachiko explained that the TV show we were watching was the most popular comedy show in Japan and was on every Saturday night. I still couldn't get it, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it. I asked about the commercials and she said that this was NHK, the public television station, and that there weren't any.

All in all dinner lasted about an hour and a half and everyone was full. I continued eating the soy beans which I found very delicious and addicting. The mother seemed happy that I enjoyed them and made another large bowl after the table was cleared.

After the comedy show was over, the father switched the station to a police drama type of show. This I found fairly interesting and easy to follow, even though I didn't understand the language. Sachiko and her mother washed the dishes in the kitchen.

After we had finished our fourth beer or so, the father said something to me and I understood the word whiskey. He yelled something into the kitchen and soon a small tray with two glasses, a bucket of ice, and a pitcher of water was brought in along with a bottle of whiskey. The two glasses were placed on the table and the father filled them with ice.

"Whiskey wada," he said. "You like?"

I had never had whiskey and water before, but feeling rather good, nodded my head and said "yes". He poured a little whiskey into the glasses from a small, dark, round bottle with a yellow label on it. The label said Suntory. He then filled the remainder of the glass with water.

"Disu izu mizu wari", he said, pointing at the glass. "Whisky Wada."

His accent was funny in English, but I knew what he meant. Now I was really getting drunk and my shyness and inhibitions started to fade into the background. The father and I started speaking with Sachiko being the interpreter. I don't remember much of what was said, but I do remember us laughing a lot. I also don't know how it happened, but I vaguely remember myself standing up in that room and singing like an idiot while the parents and Sachiko laughed. I was told later the next day that I put on a one man comedy show for them. I didn't know it at the time, but I guess I was singing karaoke before karaoke was cool.

The next thing I remember is waking up in the morning, groggy, still a little drunk, but with no headache like I was accustomed to after a night of heavy drinking. I put on the sweats and stumbled into the warm kitchen. The parents and Sachiko were already in there and were eating breakfast. Her younger brother and older sister were in the parent's room watching TV. Everyone looked my way and said "Ohayo", good morning. I said "ohayo" in return and took a seat at the table. Coffee was made for me.

I was asked if I wanted something to eat and I said that I would like to have some of that delicious toast I had yesterday. The toast was made and a small bowl of soup was put in front of me that had some small clams in the shell in it. This I found very tasty and ate a couple of bowls of it. I had never eaten clams before.

Her father talked, through Sachiko, about the previous evening and how much fun he had had. I thought I must've made a real fool of myself with my singing and antics, but no one seemed to mind.

It was only later on, as I came to learn more and more about the Japanese culture, that drinking helps the Japanese relax and it's perfectly okay to make a fool out of oneself and "let your hair down", so to speak, when inebriated.

I mentioned to Sachiko that I was surprised I didn't have a headache with the amount of alcohol I drank the previous evening. She said that she gave me an aspirin before I went to bed and passed out. I didn't even remember it. She said an aspirin before bed, after drinking alcohol, will prevent a headache. I'll have to remember that, I thought to myself.

Anyway, we finished our breakfast and I washed and brushed my teeth at the sink and we all ended up in the family room sitting on the floor watching TV for the remainder of the morning. They drinking their tea and I my coffee. We also ate some tangerines that the mother placed in a small wicker bowl on the table. After a while, the older sister got dressed and left and the brother went to his room. The mother washed dishes and Sachiko did the wash and hung out the bedding.

What was different this morning was that there was no wooden table. Instead there was a kotatsu. I particularly enjoyed this. With the sun shining into the room, the kerosene heater lit with the kettle of water hissing on top, and my feet warmed by the kotatsu, it was a real cozy atmosphere and, for some unknown reason, I felt like I belonged there.

The father laid on the floor while reading the paper and I, also, "read" the paper, or rather looked at the pictures and strange writing. I was more interested in the advertisements inserted in the paper. There's nothing you can't get in this country, and the prices are pretty decent, I remember thinking to myself. I was most interested in the electronics ads than anything else.

At around 1pm, it was time for lunch. Sachiko mentioned that they were going to order lunch and asked what I would like. I was given a few options and selected the pork on rice, also known as katsudon. The mother made a phone call and after about 30 minutes our lunch was delivered by a man on a scooter.

I was little surprised that lunch was delivered in real glass bowls. I was half expecting paper boxes much like a Chinese restaurant in the states. The plates were placed around the table and everyone ate while watching TV. I found the katsodon extremely tasty and enjoyed it very much.

After lunch, the plates were gathered up and placed outside. Sachiko said that the store would come by later in the day to pick them up. At about 3 pm I mentioned that I had to be getting back to the base as I had to get up early the next morning and I asked about how to get home. Sachiko mentioned something to her father and the father yelled something to the brother. Sachiko then said that her brother would drive me back to the base.

We then went into Sachiko's room where I changed clothes. What surprised me was that my underclothes and socks were washed. Sachiko said that she had washed them that morning. I felt kind of embarrassed about this, but didn't say anything.

When it was time to leave, I said "domo arrigato", thank you, to the parents (one of the few phrases I knew in Japanese) and bowed a little as I had seen the Japanese do to each other. The parents said they were glad to meet me and hoped that I would visit again. I secretly hoped that I would also.

The three of us left the house and walked a little to the parking area where the brother's car was parked. He owned a brand new, dark green, 1973 Nissan Skyline; one of the coolest looking sports cars in Japan at that time. Cool, I said to myself. Sachiko got in the back and I rode in the front.

As we drove the narrow streets back to the base, Sachiko and I talked a little. I asked if I could see her again and she said, "Sure". She wrote her phone number down on a piece of paper and I tucked it away carefully in my wallet.

During the drive home her brother hardly said a word except to Sachiko to ask where the base was. I knew the city name and train station name and the adjoining city, but that was it. I had no idea how to get home by car. He managed to find it anyway. He never spoke directly to me and I still had the feeling that he didn't much like me, even though we were about a year and a half apart in age. Maybe he didn't like Americans dating his sister, but I thought that that couldn't be it as he already had two sisters married to Americans. Maybe two were enough for him. Oh well.

The drive from her house to the base, about 30 kilometers (18 miles), took almost an hour. The traffic on route 16 this Sunday afternoon was horrendous. It was mostly stop and go all the way. I couldn't get over that most of the backup on this two lane "highway" was mostly due to traffic signals and the massive number of cars. I also noticed that a majority of the cars were white and contained families or couples. I also remember noticing that when there was a family in the car, the wife was always in the back.

When we weren't talking, I mostly stared out the window at the small shops, houses, signs, and took everything in while thinking about the most intriguing weekend I had ever experienced. The sun began to set and Sachiko pointed out Mt. Fuji to the left. You could clearly make out the top third of the snow covered mountain standing tall just over the Tanzawa Mountains to the west. What a majestic site.

Once at the base, I signed them in and we drove the short distance to my living quarters. There I said "domo arrigato" to her brother. He nodded his head, said something I didn't understand, and I exited the car. I moved the seat forward so Sachiko could get out. When she was outside the car, I reached down, clasped both her hands in mine and, looking into her eyes, squeezed them and said "Thanks for a very interesting weekend. I really enjoyed it."

She looked back at me, squeezed my hands in return, and said, "You're welcome. I enjoy too." I kissed her on her cheek, said I would call her, and held the door open as she got into the front seat. She looked up and me, smiled, and said "mata neh," "see you again". I closed the door and waved as they made a u-turn and headed back down the street to the gate.

I did call Sachiko the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. I saw her the following weekend, spent it at her house again, and continued seeing her as often as I could. I spent many a weekend at her house and eventually started working with the father and brother on Saturdays.

We eventually fell in love and were married in civil ceremonies at the American Embassy and the city hall in late spring of 1975 with the blessings of her parents. As her parents were not well off, and neither was I for that matter, there was no formal wedding.

I'd like to say that we lived happily ever after, but such was not the case. After I decided to get out of the military two years later and enter a university in Tokyo our standard of living declined somewhat and I insisted that I did not want any children until I at least graduated from university. I guess the insecurity of not having a steady paycheck, a free place to live and access to the base stores kind of took it's toll and things started to go downhill as the life of a student was not the life she "envisioned". If you've ever seen the movie An Officer and A Gentleman, you'll know what I am talking about.

However, even after our amicable divorce, in 1978, we remained good friends and did have a date or two. We almost got back together in 1980, but fate would not allow it as it probably wasn't meant to be. She did upgrade herself though, and ended up marrying a US Naval Officer.

In my opinion, I feel she was one of the last generation of Japanese women that married US servicemen for a "better life" outside of Japan. Not that I thought she didn't love me or anything. She did. But that will have to be explained another time.

However, I did meet and made quite a few friends through her sister and the people she worked with as we used to hang out and travel together often; one of which is still my closest and dearest friend today. He was my best man when I got married again in 1988.

Even today, almost 34 years later, I still think of Sachiko often. I wonder what she is doing and smile when I remember that weekend totally immersed in the Japanese culture for the first time when I had been in Japan for only one month.

I smile at how awkward I was, the blunder of the bath, my shock at her sister sleeping in the room, and the little discoveries I made and the things I learned. The food I tasted, the coldness, the kindness of her parents, and my first introduction into all things Japanese. And I sincerely hope she eventually found happiness, even though it wasn't with me, as she and her family were really nice people and treated me great throughout the three years we spent together.

Even if our relationship wasn't meant to be, maybe that weekend was, as I came to truly love Japan and the culture, and ended up staying in Japan for more than15 years after that.

That weekend totally change my life and pointed me in a whole new direction that, I often wonder today, where I would've ended up had I not met Sachiko. There is a saying that, "everything happens for a reason," and that "there are NO coincidences in life." And I am sure, for reasons I cannot explain here, that when I look back over it, it was supposed to happen.

To Sachiko and her family, I thank you. I thank you for welcoming me, a foreigner, into your family when I was a complete stranger and introducing me to life and culture in Japan, a place that I now call home.