The business of a huge Japanese trading firm such as Tozai was highly departmentalized, and each staff member was in charge of a certain specific commodity. For instance, Saburo Tanaka was assigned to the foodstuff section of the London office. He specialized in canned goods and, as the United Kingdom had bought a considerable amount of tinned crab, salmon and tuna from Japan for many years now, it was an important section. Saburo, however, was only a junior clerk in the section. Above him was the section chief, who, in turn, reported to the departmental chief and thence, through the manager, to the foodstuff department of the Tokyo head office.
Saburo Tanaka, then, had to handle everything pertaining to canned goods, although important negotiations of sales of tinned goods to consumers in the United Kingdom were usually conducted through various agents of Tozai in London, and the British employees of the London office were mainly engaged in such matters.
Tozai Trading had numerous subsidiaries and affiliated firms in the field of canned goods throughout Japan. Whenever representatives of these firms came to Europe on a so-called inspection tour, it was the duty of Saburo to meet them at Heathrow International Airport and to look after the visitors during their entire stay.
Often trade ministry officials in charge of foodstuffs came junketing to Europe, and it was then that a fierce scramble developed among Tozai and other leading Japanese firms to get hold of such an official and entertain him in a most lavish and thoroughgoing way. At times it almost seemed that the London representatives of Japanese trading firms were doing nothing but entertaining important visitors from home. It was Saburo's duty, too, to see to it that suitable care was taken of those visitors in whom Tozai Trading had an interest or a stake.
Also, there was a constant flow of visitors from the head office all through the year; for instance, the director of the foodstuff department used to come to Europe at least once a year, sometimes oftener, ostensibly for consultation purposes. It was then that Saburo, to say nothing of his section chief and other superiors, got busy and left no stone unturned in making the visitor's sojourn in England pleasurable; sometimes they made his stay profitable, too, by buying him gifts to take home.
As a rule, apart from a dinner or two, a sightseeing tour and theater-going, a round of golf was considered the form of entertainment most appreciated by the Japanese. So a visitor of some importance was almost always invited to a golf course. In fact, the Tozai London office kept, at company expense, three complete sets of golf clubs to be used on such occasions. It was Alice's duty, as secretary to the manager, to ring up and reserve a time with Burlington and the other clubs for those visitors from Japan. And when the reservation was made, it sometimes fell to Saburo to take the visitor out on the course even during business hours on weekdays. It went without saying that all expenses involved, including incidentals, were charged to the company.
Alice had come to learn about the inside working of all these arrangements which outwardly had nothing to do with the conduct of the company's business. She still, however, could not quite understood why her husband had to shuttle back and forth between London and Heathrow Airport, sometimes twice or three times a day, meeting visitors and bidding them good-bye.
"Saburo, why do you have to go to the airport so often? Can't you send the company car to the hotel so that the visitor can go to the airport himself?" she wondered.
"No, that is not done in Japan. If you did that sort of thing to important visitors it would be considered a serious breach of etiquette. Besides, you never know what kind of trouble a visitor may run into at the airport before boarding the plane, especially not knowing much English. So we all make a point of waiting at the airport until the plane actually takes off," Saburo explained.
"So they are like small children, escorted by their schoolmaster," Alice laughed.
Once Saburo was told to take care of Mr. Takano, president of the Canned Goods Association of Japan, for one day during his London visit. Takano had a young male secretary traveling with him. As was customary, after showing them the sights of London, Saburo took the visitors to dinner at the Japanese Club. Since most Japanese travelers were eager for Japanese food and for sake, the distinctive Japanese rice wine, the club restaurant provided an ideal place to entertain them.
When the dinner was over Saburo sauntered on to Piccadilly with the visitors. The president of the association, who was in a hilarious mood after drinking sake, suddenly remarked :
"English women do not put on much cosmetics but they are very attractive, don't you think so? Their skin has that peculiar rosy white color. Have you ever embraced an English woman, Mr. Tanaka?"
Feeling embarrassed and knowing that what Takano said was a hint, Saburo replied :
"There are all kinds of people in London. Most women of that sort are foreigners, though. Many of them are just out to rob you. They have no scruples. Always looking for some easy prey. The other day a Japanese traveler was robbed of all the money he had with him. These girls work with touts of the worst kind."
"Yes, but you live in London and surely you must know some place where . . . " the elderly man persisted.
"I can't recommend any place to you, really. Lately London has become too dangerous for nocturnal adventures. I hear you are going to Paris after London. Paris is much better in that respect."
As Saburo said this, the young, salacious-looking secretary intervened.
"Mr. Tanaka, President Takano has been traveling for three weeks now and badly needs a bit of relaxation, you know. Surely you could do something for us. The present trip of the president is an important one. As soon as he gets back he has to discuss next year's export quotas with the trade ministry. I think Mr. Takano could urge the ministry to give favorable consideration to Tozai on the basis of his findings on the current tour."
Saburo felt angry at the secretary's intimidation. He knew this was a veiled threat to force him to procure an evening's pleasure for the visitor. Yet, on second thought, if the fact of the president's unfulfilled desire were to reach the ears of Saburo's superiors, he might face demotion, if not outright dismissal. He also reflected that his taking care of the visitor was in fact a means of promoting the company's business in the long run.
Hailing a taxicab, then, Saburo took President Takano and his secretary to Maida Vale. There were quite a few dubious women hanging round the street, looking for prospective clients, at that hour of the evening. Saburo spoke to one of them, and again to another, and negotiated a deal. He then walked with the visitors and two women to an establishment a few blocks away. There at the entrance, Saburo explained to the Canned Goods Association boss and his bullying secretary that everything was in order, that money had already been paid, and wished them a good time.
It was a cold, miserable night; fog was descending. Saburo waited outside the entrance, shivering. He had never felt more miserable in all his life. What a degrading and humiliating job it was, working for a trading firm I Why should the company pander to such a despicable person as Takano?
Saburo wanted now to go straight home, back to Alice. But what if something happened? He had paid the fee and tips in advance. But there was a likelihood that the ladies might extort more money from the good-natured Japanese and leave them penniless. There was also a possibility that the Canned Goods boss, being fat and old, might have a heart attack or a stroke in the course of the amorous engagement. Then there would be trouble, plenty of trouble, and without Saburo's presence or intervention the situation would almost be hopeless. And if that happened, he, and he alone, would be held responsible by his superiors and possibly by the Head Office.
So thinking, Saburo waited and waited, and it was well over two hours before the Japanese travelers finally emerged, satisfied and grinning like Cheshire cats.
When Saburo arrived home and sneaked into the bedroom, Alice was awake.
"Where have you been, Saburo?" she inquired searchingly.
"You know, I had to take that Mr. Takano out to dinner and later to a
film."
"But you cannot be this late. It's nearly three in the morning. What have you been doing since the film?"
Alice was suspicious. Saburo was tempted to tell her about his hanging round the Maida Vale area. But it was such a shabby experience and he was too proud to tell her the truth.
"After seeing a picture at the Gaumont Theatre we went into the Lyons' Corner House at Marble Arch. There I got into a long argument with Mr. Takano. He is in the same line of business as I and so engaged me in all sorts of discussion-about the need to revamp the export license system and all that," Saburo lied.
"I can hardly believe you, Saburo. You've entertained many visitors from Japan before but never come home so late at night. You are not talkative by nature and certainly not argumentative. Why are you home so late?"
"It was Takano and his secretary who were argumentative. Especially after drinking sake at the Japanese Club."
Saburo then embraced Alice tenderly. Her suspicion gradually melted as Saburo demonstrated his eagerness to possess her, and his unusually vigorous performance that night sent her to bliss and ecstasy such as she had not experienced for some time.
Time flew like an arrow, and it was almost two years since they had been married and started a new life. The strange life of a Japanese company employee had been imposed on a normal, sensible British woman. Spiritually they were in wedlock and felt very close to each other, but physically the couple were very much apart because of Saburo's golfing over weekends, his late homecoming, his frequent business trips to the Continent. Alice very appropriately described herself as "a golf widow." Had it not been for the fact that she was working at Tozai during the day the situation would have been well-nigh impossible. She often thought of those silent wives of Saburo's colleagues whom she had met at Mrs. Takahashi's tea, and marveled at their infinite stoicism and forbearance.
As if all these semi-official evening activities were not enough, Saburo went to play mahjong in his colleagues' houses from time to time. A game of mahjong was always a stag affair and often lasted until well after midnight. Members of other trading firms in London also played with the Tozai boys, and they all seemed to enjoy the game and played for very high stakes sometimes.
"Saburo, must you really play this silly game of mahjong? It's so time-consuming and wears you out," Alice burst out one night.
"No, on the contrary, mahjong is about the only relaxation we trading people can enjoy. As you know, Alice, even a game of golf is a part of our work and is not always an enjoyment. Especially when playing with our customers and Head Office people, it could be a serious mental strain at times. The only time we are really free from worry and restraint is when we play mahjong," Saburo explained.
"You must think of your home, dear. I've made so many concessions to you. You are seldom home over weekends because you are busy playing golf. At first I thought it was impossible, but now I understand. You come home late from the office; this, too, I understand. But playing mahjong until midnight just for your enjoyment? No. You should quit playing mahjong." Alice was firm.
"If I stayed away from mahjong my colleagues would think me odd and unsociable. Even now many of them tease me for having married you, saying that I'm a henpecked husband and all that. If I stopped mahjong what would they say? Besides, mahjong is often a means of smoothing our relations with rival trading firms such as Tokyo Trading. Over mahjong we fish for information about their activities and get to know them, which is very essential in carrying out our work."
Alice was disgusted. Cutthroat competition among rival trading firms in London was bad enough, but why should Saburo and the other men have to go so far as using games of mahjong to compete with or spy on their rivals? Alice also reflected that there was no private life, strictly speaking, for the Japanese worker. Everything was devoted to and sacrificed for the sake of the company he worked for. His work was part and parcel of his life, and there was no clear line of demarcation between his work and his rest. His home was, to all intents and purposes, merely the place he went to sleep at night and possibly to procreate. It was definitely not the home as Westerners understood the term, where one relaxed and enjoyed family life.
Yet it was remarkable that even Saburo took such an anomalous situation for granted, or was it a normal thing with him? The Japanese worker sought enjoyment outside of his home, and he appeared to be happy and contented.
Ambassador and Mme. Soga were giving a huge reception in the embassy residence in Kensington on April 29th. It was an annual affair celebrating the birthday of the Emperor of Japan, to which nearly one thousand people were invited; members of the diplomatic corps, high British government officials and members of the Japanese community.
That year Mr. and Mrs. Saburo Tanaka received an invitation for the first time, presumably because Mrs. Tanaka was a British woman. From the Tozai Trading Company only Mr. Takahashi, the manager, and Mr. Iida, his deputy, together with their wives, were invited. Other leading Japanese firms were similarly represented.
However, there were many other Japanese present; in fact almost one-third of the guests were Japanese and most Japanese ladies wore colorful kimonos which lent a note of gaiety to the affair. Almost all the Japanese ladies were gathered in one section of the hall, talking and chatting among themselves. As for the Japanese men-folk, they also kept to themselves and few ventured to mix with foreign guests. As a matter of fact, the entire Japanese community was conspicuous in its self-imposed isolation from the British guests.
"Why do the Japanese keep to themselves like that?" Alice asked Saburo.
"Well, the Japanese don't speak English well enough, especially women. Moreover, we don't know many of the British people who are assembled here today."
"But why do Japanese men segregate themselves completely from their women?"
"We are always like that, you know. Our interests are not identical, and topics for conversation are strictly limited. We men talk about mahjong, golf scores and company matters, while the fairer sex are interested in their dress and in household affairs."
Saburo and Alice were still watching this curious spectacle of the Japanese assembly when an elderly British lady came and introduced herself.
"I am Margaret Downes. I was formerly married to Tagawa, who was London manager of Tozai Trading before the war. Perhaps you have heard about me."
"Yes, indeed. You now live in England, don't you?" both Saburo and Alice replied, almost in unison.
"I hear you were married a year or two ago in London. I've been wanting to meet you," the former Mrs. Tagawa said, turning toward Alice.
"I lived in Japan after Tagawa left London but I had to go through terrible experiences, both before and during the war. While in London I found the Japanese people very charming, kind and generous. But when I got to Japan it was a different story. And then the war came. I was followed, questioned and searched all the time by the military police. I told them I was a Japanese businessman's wife and I had even acquired Japanese citizenship papers. But they never believed me. You have no idea how terrible antiforeignism was in the years before the war. I shudder to think of it now.
"You know the Japanese always suffer from an inferiority complex and their repressed feelings sometimes erupt like a volcano in the form of xenophobia. After the war, Tagawa, as he grew old, became a typical Japanese, eating Japanese food and going to geisha houses almost every night. I couldn't stand him and so came back with my daughter Jane."
Alice listened to the elderly lady with sympathy.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all these troubles," she commiserated.
"Well, all I can say is that Japan definitely is not the place for an Englishwoman to live."
The verdict of this ex-Tozai manager's British wife gave little comfort to Alice.
One afternoon in Tozai's London office Mr. Iida, the assistant manager, sent for Alice. Since Alice, in theory, worked for the manager, she wondered what it was that Mr. lida wanted.
"Mrs. Tanaka
, I wonder if you can do me a favor."
"What is it, Mr. Iida?" Alice asked.
"You know our Japanese staff members do not speak good English, myself included. We are so busy, as you know, that we have little time to study English. Both Manager Takahashi and myself have long felt a need to remedy the situation. It occurred to me that perhaps you could assist us in this matter. The manager wants you to conduct an English-conversation class for the staff, starting next month in the office," Mr. Iida explained to her.
"I should be glad if I could be of any service, Mr. lida. How do you propose to do it?" Alice asked.
"The class is to begin soon after the office hours end and is to last for one hour and a half and will meet every other day of the week in the big conference room. There shall be only one group to start with, an intermediate class in which those who have a fair command of English will take part. It is an experiment. We could have more classes, depending on how we get on. As to the fee, we shall pay you 50 pounds a month. Would that be agreeable to you?"
"Yes, Mr. Iida. I'm familiar with some of the difficulties the Japanese experience in pronouncing certain English words. So I think I can help your staff members to improve their English. Anyway, I'll do my best," Alice answered.
So the arrangements were agreed on for the staff English-conversation class. Alice was to busy herself now with the extra-office duties it would entail. She knew that almost all Japanese spoke very poor English. Even Saburo's command of the language left much to be desired. Surely English was drastically different from Japanese both in its syntax and its pronunciation, and it would not be fair to criticize the Japanese for their poor performance. Her fellow-Britishers, also an island people, were not particularly gifted in the mastery of foreign languages, Alice conceded.
Alien Rice; A Novel. Page 3
