Fresh out of school, my first real job was with a Japanese company. I was excited about the new prospect but it required me to spend nearly a year in Japan. The company placed me in a nice, tiny apartment in the Nagoya area as I tried to adapt to the culture and meet new people.
At the time, I spoke almost no Japanese so the first three months were quite lonely. Eventually, I made some friends from work. They invited me to karaoke often, probably because I could pronounce the words in the lyrics better but nevertheless, it opened the door to meet new people.
Being a car nut, I eventually got hooked up with a group of people who gathered weekly to show off their cars. Keep in mind, this was way back around 1990, so the car scene was quite different back then. One group I met had a passion for air cooled VW's...Bugs, buses and my favorite, the Karmann Ghia.
I met one fellow who we'll call "Toshi" and his lovely sister who we'll call "Reiko." Reiko was a 21 year old alabaster Princess with skin like milk and a voluptuous figure. Unlike other Japanese women, she was not super slender...in fact, she was probably 10-15 lbs. past what she thought was her ideal weight, but trust me when I tell you that many women can wear some extra weight and be downright sexy.
At the time, Asian women were not on my radar. Still, she was good company and she clearly adored me. We became fast friends and spent a lot of time together in the coming months. Her brother had a place close to where I lived and as it turns out, he worked for a company that was a sub supplier to my company.
Over the next six months, I hung out almost exclusively with this group and I got to take in many sights, learn the language and the customs.
Reiko was there all the time and after a long while, it progressed into a budding romance. I could tell our feelings were getting stronger, but I always knew that I would be leaving the country someday. Despite this, she accepted this for what it was and even took me to meet her family.
This gesture apparently, is a pretty big step in the Japanese culture. I was extremely nervous when I met her mom, but her mom's kind gentle ways put me at ease. Her father, on the other hand, was not so receiving. Perhaps I put him on edge when I told him that my granddad spent some time in Japan right after the World War II but in retrospect, telling him that he was part of the US Occupation Forces probably wasn't such a hot idea.
On the way back to town, Reiko told me that she wanted their approval of me so she could take the relationship further. Still wrestling with this (I had mixed feelings myself), we ended up at a sushi place. Up until this point, I had resisted sushi because I was a die hard American boy who loved meat and potatoes. Sushi was more like bait to me but with her, I'd try anything once. This included Sake.
I've never been much of a drinker and up until that point, I had never tried Sake. The thing about Sake is that it is like tax season: it sneaks up on you but when it hits, you're going down hard. I remember marveling in my buzzed stupor at how could the sushi chefs were with a knife. They were veritable surgeons, who operated with deft precision.
I remember musing that a sushi chef could trim anything up to make it ready to eat.
Somehow, we made it back at my apartment. Keep in mind that my place was tiny...one light fixture in the main room lit the whole place. With the Sake kicking in, I struggled to find that one light and tripped over my camera tripod. My place was loaded with camera equipment and I remember being concerned that she would think I was shooting inappropriate pictures of women, given that much of my tiny living area was rife with camera gear.
I remember hearing her say something that sounded like 'do you want to try some Canon lenses?' Turning around with great enthusiasm, I was surprised to Reiko standing their in the buff. For a moment, I thought she was inspired to shoot some nude photos.
She repeated the statement and despite my Japanese-English not being very refined at that time, it was clear that she wasn't saying 'Canon lenses,' she was trying to say 'cunnilingus.' As she looked down toward her feet, my eyes followed.
I'm not sure how to best describe what I saw next, so bear with me. Keeping in mind that this was 1990 and not 1967, I had assumed that most women had adopted certain grooming habits.
Apparently, that trend had not made it across the expansive Pacific ocean to the land of the rising sun. The sun wasn't the only thing not rising that evening, as my mind was immediately taken back to the old Chia pet commercial.
In fairness to me, it was a huge distraction. At the time, women's grooming style mandated a "landing strip," or a heart, anything but Buckwheat's afro. I mean, my GOD!! I wondered how she got her Calvin Klein jeans on. Meanwhile, that damned Chia pet commercial was replaying ten times a second in my head...and I couldn't turn it off.
Whether I giggled out loud or recited the jingle, I can't say for sure. Suffice to say, this poor girl was mortified about my response and quickly got dressed.
I calmed her down and sat beside her to comfort her. I explained that since I'd be leaving the country soon, this was not a good idea. That was absolutely true too, but I think she sensed that something else was amiss.
As we said our "good nights," I sat back and wondered to myself if things would have been differently if she were as good with a razor as the sushi chefs were with a knife.
And while I still enjoy sushi to this day, I still don't like hair in my food.
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