Fifty Years of Resumes and Passport Stamps

Getting ready to accompany my husband on a volleyball clinic trip to Japan, I went to my boss with a proposal. As a systems instructor at a computer company, my job was to develop courses and teach the new operating system which at that time was released on a heavy removable disk. I proposed to my boss that I take a disk to Tokyo and teach the technical staff the new system, paying my own way in return for the time off for the rest of the trip. After several high-level negotiations with the manager of the Tokyo office, my proposal was accepted and I assembled some teaching materials and letters describing the purpose of the computer disk, and got ready to go. After a long plane flight and a quiet hotel overnight, I began the systems course at the Tokyo office, where I was introduced to my five students. One or two of the students spoke some English, but they all understood how the computer worked. I sat down in front of the control terminal, the five students gathered around, and I started typing in commands to demonstrate the features of the new operating system. They watched carefully, then each took turns repeating the commands, asking questions or looking puzzled to get a repeat or additional information. “How do you overcome the language barrier, English to Japanese,” I asked. “We use Katakana and Kanji, two special Japanese alphabets,” one student replied. “Katakana has 46 symbols which correspond to Latin script and express Japanese sounds that become the equivalent of English letters. Kanji has characters that are used in a modern Japanese writing system. Computerized translators can convert the languages to English text and back and forth.” Count on the Japanese to solve technical problems. We had a quick lunch and continued through the features of the operating system in the afternoon. After work, the staff, including me, gathered for drinks and bar snacks at a nearby bar. Then the manager came by. “Come with me,” he said. “We go out.” And what an “out!” By taxi we went to a nearby high-rise building, took the elevator up and entered a large room with low tables and stools, and a platform with a microphone at one end. The room was crowded with Japanese business men being served by hostesses, ladies in lovely traditional geisha dress. One came up to my host, smiling with recognition, and led us to a table that appeared to have been reserved for him. She brought snacks, then served him what was his usual drink, and he suggested one for me, Suntori whiskey over ice. The music changed to a melody I recognized, and a gentlemen at another table went to the microphone and sang. This was a gentlemen’s karaoke bar! We enjoyed the music and before too long, my manager also got up and took his turn singing. After several songs and drinks and much bowing to others in the room, my manager motioned that it was time to leave, only to take me to another close-by high rise, to another karaoke bar, with songs, geisha-dressed hostesses, and Suntori over ice. By the time he took me back to the hotel, we had been to four or five bars, my manager singing at each one, and me smiling at everyone and deciding that Suntori would be my drink forever.