Foiled Again

They say there's a thin line between love and hate. I say there's also a thin line between a cookie and a cracker.

My must I be so gullible? How many times have I fallen for the old "here, colleen-san, have a cookie" routine? Why do the cookies always taste like fish?

Sanity Update

My insomnia seems to be getting better and the pit in my stomach has shrunk significantly. I've calmed down about the work. I was suffering from the same thing that plagues this company in Japan: do everything myself disorder.

One of the main projects I've been working on is helping the Aussie train the employees on how to work within a team structure. The concept of working on a team is new to this office and their view of it is similar to mine on Mount Fuji: it only exists to make people feel inferior. That is, if it exists at all.

So, for a while there I let myself fall into the same trap. I didn't delegate work (because I didn't think there was anyone to delegate to) and I obsessed over the quality of the work (nothing I can do about that, except my best). These days, I'm delegating to anyone who stands still long enough.

Yesterday, the Aussie gave me two nice compliments. First, in an email, he referred to me as "his most trusted lieutenant." Later, after hearing about the Osaka weekend, he said, "I heard you were a blistering success."

That's nice. But I think he's trying to butter me up so that I won't leave. Fat chance.

Osaka Revisited

Monday

I went sightseeing on Monday morning with the Texans. They had a real tour guide and everything! I left them after lunch to catch the Shinkansen (bullet train) back to Tokyo. Duty calls...

Osaka castle.

A warrior's armor. Complete with fake mustache and goatee.

I paid three bucks to wear this outfit.

This was her idea. I swear.

Shitennoji Temple. Most of the original buildings have been destroyed by fires and war. These are mostly reconstructions.

Peeking out through an old stone marker. Shitennoji Temple.

One of the nice things about travelling with a guide is that I found out all sorts of things I hadn't learned on my own. Like you only tie up bad fortunes at temples and shrines.

Turtles sunning themselves at Shitennoji temple. Legend says that the turtles, after many years of hearing the prayers and chants at the temple, will become gods.

Negotiating with a dried fruit seller at the flea market at Shitennoji temple. His sales pitch was great: every fruit cured at least two ailments. I bought sugared almonds ("good for the face.")

Me with the Texans (and my luggage). Dotombori, Osaka.

Lunch- noodles again. This time udon with prawn tempura. Our guide said that this restaurant is also famous in Osaka.

Boarding the Shinkansen at Shin-Osaka Station.

What most people do on the Shinkansen.

The passing countryside.

Best After Karaoke Food Ever

When I was in college, I survived on Ramen Noodles. They were 4 packs for a dollar at McLanahan's on College Avenue. When I was in the dorms, I would make them in my illegal hotpot.

But Top Ramen has nothing on the ramen shops in Osaka. After karaoke, we stumbled down the alley to a place that looked a little suspicious. But, the Japanese told me that it was one of the most famous ramen shops in town.

The Pres trying to negotiate with the ticket machine outside the ramen shop.

We got a lot of looks from the other bleary-eyed drunks in the place, mostly because we were loud and taking pictures all over the place. The cooks behind the counter managed to look frenzied and bored at the same time. They had one eye on their soup pots and the other on the large plasma flat-screen TV playing J-pop videos.

The cook put a humongous steaming bowl of soup with the most delicious ramen I've ever tasted. I think it might be physically impossible to eat the whole thing. But I did my best.

After ramen we took took the Texans back to their hotel (the Hyatt Regency Osaka, gorgoeous). The can I was in took us to the back entrance where we almost had to scale a small fence to get in. Not to worry, the Texans were prepared to lift me over the fence. Luckily, this was not necessary.

Me with the Texans who almost airlifted me. The crab is a famous ad icon in Osaka.

Finally, three of us got into a cab to take us to our hotel (The Bay Tower Hotel, crappy). The Pres fell dead asleep in the cab. I had to wake him up when we got to the hotel.

Catching Zzzzzzzs in the cab.

I was so tired that I thought I'd fall asleep right away, but I guess I got my second wind. So I watched crazy English lessons on Japanese TV.

Karaoke Deluxe

After a long weekend of medical intrigue, we took the Texans out for a night of karaoke. Before we left, most of them were trying to bail out. They were so exhausted, I don't blame them. I was ready for bed by 7:30 pm.

We got to the karaoke place, which was superdeluxe, and the energy was pretty low. I felt that as masterofceremonies, it was my duty to keep the Texans motivated. So, I put in all the old favorites: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Walk Like an Egyptian, and the Madonna Medley. The Pres and the topdoc from Texas (who is originally from Japan) did Y.M.C.A. in Japanese.

Next thing we know, it's almost midnight and I'm loading Dolly Parton's 9 to 5 in to the machine. What a way to make a living, indeed.

This room had about 30 seats in it, three plasma screens, and a waitress. I love rich people!

Notice how many drinks there are in this picture.

Group sing. Probably some Billy Joel song. They love Billy Joel.

Joyce from Texas auditioning for a role in a karaoke video as "lovesick woman waiting for her man to come home." I told her that her subtext was "survive!"

Hi-tech touch screens. Too bad it's all in Japanese.

The Pres cuttin' a rug with Wendeline from Texas.

Last Day of the Conference

Sunday

Sunday was the last day of the conference. The attendees were required to make presentation to the whole group. Yes, it was exactly as boring as it sounds. How is it that I made it through 4 years (OK, 5 years) of college without having to endure a statistics lecture but I travel halfway around the world and have to endure not one, but 4 of them?

The convention center.

Last day presentation.

A beleaguered Japanese surgeon.

Lunch. Ew.

The Pres doing his secret service thing.

Amusing myself by pestering the Pres.

Our technical support guy. He didn't speak much English, but this look says it all.

All T-Shirts is in Here

I found a store in Osaka called "Starvations" that specialized in stupid t-shirts. It was the most fun I'd had in days. They had a floor-to-ceiling selection of shirts with messages in English ranging from sugary sweet (Find your best dream life NOW!) and chagrined (I have no idea it would end up like this) to political (They were arrested for their disobedience) and just plain strange (That, dear girl, is a wasp. That is because my breast can be pierced.)

So I spent my babysitting money on a bunch.

I bought these for the twins. There's an off chance that Lynda will let them wear them.

Honestly, it's less offensive than the ones I DIDN'T buy...

(Yes, these were t-shirts for children. Babies, in fact):

That, dear girl, is a wasp. That is because my breast can be pierced."No fear a suicide squad."

I bought this because, frankly, I hate personman, too.

But, it's OK to smoke one a little.

I don't know who this is, but all the cool kids are wearing it.

Refreshements Are Available in the Back of the Room

My official role in Osaka is to act as "Master of Ceremonies" for the weekend program. It almost sounded interesting.

However, the reality is that I sit near the front of the room with The Pres and a microphone and introduce the Texans before they make their presentations to the attendees. Sometimes I make little announcements about refreshments. There's nothing interesting about it. The audience can't really even see me, which is good because I forgot to pack pants. I've been wearing the same pair for three days.

So I've been pretending I'm a really bored tour guide instead of a really bored advertising person.

Not Being Paid to Think

My insomnia is continuing... I finally fell asleep at 5 AM this morning and got a few hours in before heading back over to the convention center to help herd the Texans.

The Japanese have been patrolling around the conference center, all tricked out with with earpiece comms. They look ridiculous. Really, the place isn't that big. And, even though they are all wired for sound and they each have two, count 'em, two mobile phones, they still can't manage to effectively communicate with the Texans, each other, or me.

This time, it's not a language problem. All of them speak English. It's a fundamental flaw in their communication style. The Managers don't bother telling the staff what's going on beyond the next 30 minutes and it doesn't seem to occur to the staff to care. I noted this behavior earlier, and at the time I put it down to a deplorable lack of curiosity. Now I'm not so sure.

I threw a minor hissy fit this morning about this very issue. Last night I asked them what time I needed to be there today. They were vague. Eventually, we decided I'd come in time for the lunch presentation which was scheduled to begin at 12:15. Then, at 11:30 this morning, I got a frantic phone call from them wondering where I was because I was apparently late for a meeting that I never knew was scheduled.

I lost my mind. I don't remember my exact words, but it was something to the effect: "YOU PEOPLE HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO COMMUNICATE!!" Ouch.

Later, I was talking to one of the managers about it and I told him I was frustrated because they don't keep me informed, but it ends up making me look bad because I'm not doing what they need me to do.

Even though he admitted that the managers hadn't communicated well, he ultimately blamed the staff for not using common sense. He added: "At this company, there are people who are paid to think and people who are not paid to think."

Blocked

It's Friday night (actually Saturday morning) and I am sleepless in Osaka. I had hoped to use the gift of insomnia to catch up on my blog. But, nothing is coming to me. All of the stuff going on in my brain is just crashing around up there but is refusing to come out.

I'm here with some work colleagues at a business conference that they manage every year. It's a cool program: top oncology experts (doctors, nurses, pharmacists) from the US come here every year to train a crop of Japan's future oncology treatment specialists.

A word to the wise: don't get cancer in Japan. At least not for the next 5-10 years. That's when the treatments that are considered the standard-of-care in the west will finally be available and when actual oncologists will (hopefully) be treating patients with cancer instead of the cut-and-run surgeons who are doing it now. No offense to the surgeons, of course, they are great at surgery. But they fall far short of substandard in ongoing disease management.

Wow. That's pretty dull stuff.

Moving on.

Unfortunately for the visiting oncologists the timing of their visit here is pretty bad. They are from houston and have been monitoring the internet for news on Hurricane Rita. Their families are evacuating and they are generally freaking out. There's nothing you can say to them to make them feel any better.

Well, I sure wrote a lot for someone who is "blocked."

Me and Some Random Girl

Isn't it weird that we're both wearing BLUE shirts??? No, I guess not.

When I was in Asakuksa last weekend this girl was walking up to every foreigner she saw and asking them to pose for a picture with her. When she finally got to me I agreed but made her pose for one taken with my camera, too. I tried to ask her what she was doing this for, but by that time we had both exhausted our language skills. I like to think it's for some website that she is secretly building called "Gaijin Watch" that tracks the movements of all foreigners roaming around Japan. I'm sure there's a national security file on me somewhere.

The Thing That Made Me Laugh

I couldn't sleep last night (see also: pit in stomach). We had a new business pitch today and I was worried about it and a bunch of other work-related stuff. I tried reading, meditating, counting sheep, etc. I finally took an Ambien. I hope I don't become a dope fiend.

Just before I finally fell asleep, I remembered the other day when one of my Japanese clients excused herself from the room saying, "Please wait here. I have to go in there and make pee pee."

Iron Chef!

We have a bunch of oncologists visiting Japan from Texas this week. They are presenting at a special training program that my agency organizes every year. I've been asked to tag along to entertain them and act as "Master of Ceremonies" during the 3-day conference. This is how they keep introducing me to the oncologists: "This is Colleen-san. She is the masterofceromies." What can you do?

The Texans arrived today and, although they were bleary-eyed and a little cranky, we shuttled them across Tokyo to dinner at one of the Iron Chef restaurants. Szechwan Restaurant, as it is simply called, specializes in Chinese cuisine.

While the ambience was non-existent, the food was excellent. I was able to add two more exotic foods to my list: duck tongue (really gross, I gave it a chance but left most of it in my napkin) and jellyfish (I thought they were noodles, not bad though). There may have been other exotic foods, but I think our Japanese hosts stopped translating because the Texans were looking a little pale. The service was very good, too. They would parade each course around the table for us all to look at before they served it. There was usually some intricate garnish involved. The most incredible was a bird made from carrots.

On the way to dinner, The Pres was complaining to me about the Aussie: "He makes me so exhausted!" Apparently it upsets him when the Aussie comes into his office "first thing in the morning, always asking something."

I tried to be sympathetic, and I actually do feel bad for them at times. But COME ON!

With the Texans and the Japanese, Szechwan Restaurant.

Assassins of Time

This was how I looked all day on Tuesday and most of Wednesday.

PMS is a terrible thing.

I've complained for so many weeks that I don't have enough to do at the job, but now I am so busy that I hardly have time to eat. Communication lunches have been completely abandoned along with any attempt on my part to at least pretend to be patient with the assassins of time at this office.

The Aussie is moving at a frenetic pace and I am finding myself racing to keep up with him. The good news is that he is starting to trust me and regard me as an important part of his transition team. The bad news is that I am now in a constant state of anxiety, aggravation, and anorexia. I've been operating with a pit in my stomach and I think I've developed a twitch.

We've interviewed two candidates for the interpreter job. One was worthless and available immediately. The other one was great but can't start until January. After the interview I sat through another two hour meeting that was supposed to be in English but wasn't. I kept trying to escape but the senior guy kept saying, "No, we really need your input."

The new CD said, "You look ready to kill someone." Oh, my list is long. Very long.

Makadonorudo

McDonald's in Japan has a new burger called the Tomato McGrand. I think it looks like a hamburger with a tomato on it. It costs almost $4, which seems expensive to me, but I don't have any idea how much a regular hamburger at Micky D's costs these days. Anyway, they've launched a groovy new tv spot.

Also, for some reason, they don't call Ronald McDonald Ronald. They call him Donald. Donald McDonald. Just FYI.

Asakusa, Take Two

Monday, September 19
I originally had this crazy idea that I was going to get some work done on Monday. Crazy girl. Of course, I ignored my laptop and headed out the door for more Tokyo adventures.

I visited Asakusa in July and I remembered that I wanted to go back and check it again. This time I took my time wandering through the seemingly endless shrines, but I also discovered the little neighborhood of beyond the tourism.

I found a great little hole in the wall called Café Cuzn about 5 minutes walk beyond the shrines. I ordered and iced coffee and talked with the owner, a friendly woman named Miki. Behind the bar, there’s a wall covered with foreign currency and other weird stuff that people have tacked up over the last 5 years. There was even a Metrocard! Cafe Cuzn is dog-friendly, which you can see from this picture that I nicked from the internet. I thought I took a picture there, but I must have either deleted it or just imagined it.

Toward the end of the day, I saw a street sign pointing toward “Kitchenware Street.” Hello? I’m all over that. I may not know how to cook, but I love kitchen stuff! Imagine my surprise when I came across a cramped and musty shop filled with ceramics. And imagine my greater surprise when I found my beloved Mr. Bill cups for sale at approximately 1/10th of the cost that I paid for them in Kyoto. Hurrrumph.

By the way, while I was searching for a picture of Cafe Cuzn, I came across this random website a sightseeing pooch.

If you zoom in to the right of her head, you can see Mr. Bill, mocking me.

She's My Cherry Pie

Sunday, September 18

After Sumo, Yuki and I went to an izakaya (Japanese pub) in Ueno for dinner and a few drinks. The food was really great and very greasy. The thing about the Japanese is that they never obsess about eating fattening foods the way that we do in New York. I think IÂ’ve eaten more egg yolks in the past three months than I have in the last three years. Yum.

I decided that the forty-dollar-a-day flophouse was not my best bet for the weekend so I cancelled my trip to Nikko and stayed in Tokyo. On Sunday I headed to the trendy enclave of Ebisu to look around and do a little shopping. The guide books are a little out-of-date, though. Ebisu is really run-down and filled with auto-repair shops.

Not to worry, I finally managed to wander in the right direction for once and ended up in Daikanyama, the next town over and the place that the cool had obviously migrated. Daikanyama is part Greenwich Village, part Upper West Side, part nameless town in France. Most of the businesses there have some sort of French-inspired theme, which I at first found charming, then strange.

Hands-down the highlight of the day was my visit to Matsunosuke, a bakery located just on the cusp of Daikanyama. I almost didn't notice the place, but a window display of Ritz Cracker boxes caught my eye. Matsunosuke specializes in American baked goods, particularly pies and cakes. The owner, Hirano-san, was there and she recommended the cherry pie. It was fantastic. People should eat cherry pie every day in my opinion.

Even the grafitti is elegant!

As I was leaving the shop, Hirano-san told me that she learned the art of apple pie in Connecticut. Then she gave me a few free treats for the road. Somehow, I managed not to dig into the bag and gobble up the biscuit and scone before I got home.

Photos: Sumo in Action

Beginning the fight

Rear view

Squaring off

Ritual stretching

The fight

Getting thrown out of the ring