The following day Alice and Mr. Enami discussed the matter. Mr. Enami's final price was a million yen. He said he could gladly have come down a bit had it not been for his wife's illness. Mr. Enami had to meet hospital expenses and other debts, he explained. Thereupon Alice offered to make a down payment of half a million, the other half million to be paid in five monthly installments. It was fair, and the agreement was made.
Now Alice was spending most of her time and energy for the Anglo-Japanese Institute. Saburo was to help her with registration of the property and checking legal documents. She repainted the signboard to announce that Mrs. Alice T. Burns of London was the principal. This carried more authority with the Japanese and impressed the passersby.
The slight alteration of her name from Alice Tanaka to Alice T. Burns was significant, for the Japanese preferred a real native English person as conversation teacher. "Mrs. Alice Tanaka" was likely to give the impression that she was a half-caste or something. Alice therefore decided to change her name accordingly.
She needed at least a half-dozen instructors besides herself, but employed American-born Japanese or Japanese nationals with a good knowledge of English to cut down expenses. The fact that Mrs. Burns, an English lady from London, personally was running the place was enough to impress the incoming pupils.
Japan has a population of about a hundred million on a few small islands. Alice was startled and shocked by this large figure when she first arrived in the country. Now she was using this numerical overflow to good account. Her institute charged an enrollment fee of 500 yen per person and demanded an advance payment of tuition fees for a six-month period. Many applicants paid the matriculation fee and waited until vacancies occurred. Others, when their curiosity and initial enthusiasm waned after a few lessons, stopped coming. The pupils who had been on a waiting list were quickly admitted as vacancies occurred.
As a result of this quick turnover, money literally kept pouring in, and within a year the institute bought an adjacent piece of land on which Alice built two additional classrooms. In the meantime the entrance fee was raised to 1, 000 yen.
Yet Alice was cautious and did not want to overstretch herself. As so often happened with restaurants in Japan, when an owner was doing a good business he purposely kept the place small, more often than not, only aiming at quick turnover. For, the minute the owner rebuilt or enlarged the place, the clientele dwindled. So long as the place was overcrowded, people presumed that the restaurant was good and vied with one another to get in. And by the same token customers tended to shun an empty and spacious restaurant, however good the food might be. Such was human psychology. And the Anglo-Japanese conversation school was following the same tactics and putting that commercial strategy into bold execution.
Watanabe, the Tanakas' next-door neighbor, though of the same age and rank in the company as Saburo, had married early and had a five-year-old son. The Watanabes had no other child, so they brought up their son with loving care and often with overindulgence.
Alice knew that the Watanabe boy had kept very much to himself lately, after he came home from kindergarten, and was seldom seen playing outside. She casually mentioned this fact to Saburo at dinner one evening.
"Is neighbor Watanabe's boy ill or something?"
"No, he is now preparing for entrance examinations to Chiyoda Primary School. It's very hard to get into Chiyoda. So Watanabe, Junior, is working day and night. His father hired a special tutor twice a week to coach his son."
"But isn't elementary education compulsory in Japan? Anyone living in the district can go to the school, can't he?" Alice asked.
"No, not to Chiyoda Elementary School. Because that school is well known for turning out the highest percentage of successful graduates to enter the First High School. And the First High is a prestigious school whose graduates usually enter Tokyo University or the University of Commerce, my alma mater, without much difficulty, since the instructors at the First High School are known to be experts at preparing their pupils to pass the entrance examination to these famous universities."
"But isn't it cruel for a small boy to submit himself to such stiff competition just because his parents want him to go to one of those famous schools?" Alice asked.
"Well, in order to get a good employment there is no other choice. Watanabe's son went to Yamate Kindergarten for the last two years and from there he has to go right up to a university, following the best possible course reserved for a chosen few. Our Toshio, too, in a few years' time, will have to start doing the same, I'm afraid."
"No, I don't want Toshio to go through such an ordeal. It will kill his initiative and his personality and may ruin his health in the bargain. I'm dead against such a course for our son."
Alice's opposition was firm and peremptory.
Mr. John Talbot, export manager of Tozai's London office, was visiting Japan with his wife for the first time. They were on a vacation tour of the country at the expense of the company. Tozai had nearly two thousand foreign employees in its fifty-odd overseas branches throughout the world. The unpublicized staff regulations provided that any foreign employee, irrespective of his job category, was entitled to a three-weeks' paid holiday with his wife, after twenty-five years' service. Transportation to Japan and back and other expenses were all home by the company. This generous provision was characteristic of the paternalistic employment system of the Japanese business firm and was a factor in ensuring the lifelong devotion of employees to management.
Director Sasaki of the foodstuff department and Mrs. Sasaki were to throw a party at a typically Japanese-style restaurant in Akasaka to welcome the Talbots, and Saburo and Alice were also told to be present, as they had known the Talbots in London. It was indeed the first time Alice had been invited to a company's expense-account feasting. Up to that time any such parties were strictly stag affairs and only Saburo reveled in wining and dining with his male colleagues. So Alice looked forward to that evening.
The restaurant was a gorgeous place, authentically Japanese in every detail. As one entered the compound of the establishment, there was a tiny garden with bamboo shrubs, a pebbled pathway and a stone lantern, softly lit at night. The garden was tidy and most enchanting.
On the threshold of the Japanese house, one took off his footwear and stepped onto the straw-matted floor of the entrance hall. There the woman manager and the girl servants greeted the guests with deep bows. After walking along a narrow corridor for some time, accompanied by the girls, the guests were ushered into a large room, covered with immaculately clean straw matting. The decor of the room was sternly austere; there was no furniture save for a low, long lacquered table and an alcove in one corner, where a big scroll was hung and a vase of flowers was placed as a soft accent.
The participants-there were twelve all told that evening-had to sit all around the long black table, and John Talbot and his wife were invited to take seats in front of the alcove, the place of honor.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, fluttered half a dozen young geishas, all dressed in gorgeous kimonos, each of different design and coloring. These were professional waitresses, who sat by the guests, poured sake, or rice wine, and engaged them in small talk and jokes. The food, also Japanese-style, was similar to the first dinner Alice had had with Saburo in the Japanese Club in London. Clear fish soup was served, with raw fish, broiled fish, and boiled vegetables, all arranged artistically on each different plate, bowl and saucer, with the inevitable plain cooked rice and bean soup.
Alice was struck by the symplicity and refinement of everything she saw in this establishment. It was a product of Japanese culture of the last millennium, so unique and superb.
In the meantime Director Sasaki rose ceremoniously to make a speech of welcome.
"I deem it a great pleasure to welcome you here, Mr. and Mrs. Talbot of our London office. You have worked assiduously for our company for the last twenty-five years and we greatly appreciate your unstinted service. Dinner this evening, as you see, i
s a humble one but I hope you both will relax and enjoy the evening."
John Talbot responded suitably. After that the conversation around the table lapsed into awkward stiffness. Only the host occasionally spoke to the Talbots and asked commonplace questions as to the visitors' impression of the country and their intended itinerary. All the other participants refrained from taking part in the conversation, for fear that their boss might think ill of them for being too talkative and frivolous. So it was largely up to Talbot to keep the conversation going and the Japanese hosts listened passively.
Toward the end of the meal an elderly geisha woman enacted a solo dance with a gilded fan in her hand, to the accompaniment of a quaint Japanese string instrument. The rhythm was somewhat slow but the dance was beautifully executed.
Since she arrived in Japan Alice had seen only all-pervading ugliness, gaudy modernity and cheap imitation of everything Western—hotels, amusement centers and the company apartment where she lived. Now she was in the midst of a truly Japanese ambiance which was stunningly harmonious and artistic. Why did the Japanese try to do away with all this fine cultural heritage of their own? Alice wondered.
When the party was over and just before parting, John Talbot came to Alice and whispered to her anxiously.
"Alice, how are things treating you? Are you happy in Japan?"
"Yes and no," was her reply.
The end of the year was a busy time, not only for Saburo Tanaka but for Alice as well. Saburo had to attend many feasts both in and out of the company, which were called bonen-kai, or parties to see the year out.
"Saburo, what is bonen-kai?" Alice asked. "At the institute today my chief assistant suggested to me that I give a bonen-kai for all the members of my staff."
"It's a time-honored custom. During the month of December numerous parties are held throughout the land, among one's friends and colleagues, with the ostensible purpose of bidding good-bye to the year which is just about to come to an end. This curious custom is due to the fact that Japan has always been a poor and sad country, with occasional disasters and other calamities, such as typhoons and earthquakes. The average Japanese is none too happy a person. He has endured hardships and experienced many unhappy and tragic things during the year. So we try to forget the year and to hope for a better one by getting drunk at these parties."
"Oh, what a strange custom!" Alice exclaimed.
"You should give your staff some money for them to hold a party, but you yourself had better stay away. They won't be able to enjoy themselves if you are in their midst," Saburo advised.
Alice was also surprised to see so many people send gifts at the year's end.
Now she remembered the first time she reluctantly took a present to Director Sasaki's house at her husband's urging. That was soon after her arrival in Japan. In England friends and relatives exchanged gifts at Christmas, but the Japanese practice was most extensive and far-reaching.
Many of her pupils at the institute sent various presents, some quite expensive, and Alice felt sorry for those students who evidently could ill afford it but still brought her gifts. The contractors who built an annex to her school during the year also sent her an expensive silk brocade as a year-end gift. Alice's chief assistant bought her a fancy carton box filled with sweets and candies. And so on down the line. In fact, as the year's end drew near the Tanakas' living room was piled high with all these gift items. Alice felt as though she were a queen whose vassals were piling tributes at her feet. Alice also imagined that the president and directors of the Tozai Trading Company were in similar situations.
CHAPTER
8
Alice had been so busy with the baby and with the Anglo-Japanese Institute that she had not been to the Union Club for quite some time. One afternoon, however, she suddenly felt like visiting the club, as she had nothing much to do that particular day.
There she saw a familiar figure, a Tom Bowles, said to be an American, who apparently was an old Japan hand and was known to hang round the Bluff area. In other words, Bowles was a sort of leader in the foreign community of Yokohama.
Alice had never spoken to him before; as a matter of fact she was a bit wary of this unsavory character. That afternoon, however, while sitting in the main lounge, their eyes met just by chance. Bowles, a man a little over sixty, wore slightly disheveled clothes of obvious quality in bygone days, with strong preference for the color black, accented by white. His face, almost always red from constant drinking, wore the dissipated look of a gin-soaked colonial on the skids.
"Are you a newcomer, Madame?" the old man asked, starting to talk to Alice.
"Fairly new. I came from England a few years ago."
"How do you find the Japs? Do you have a lot to do with them?"
"Rather," Alice replied.
"I've been here in and out nearly fifty years, all told. was born in Yokohama. My father was a merchant seaman who became a trader here. Yokohama has seen better days. The Bluff used to be such a quiet, beautiful place, all reserved for us. Now the Japs are all over the place, buying land from us and building hideous houses. I've never had much respect for Japs, you know. They are filthy people, pissing in the street and all that."
"Why do you stay in Japan, then?" Alice interrupted.
"Because this country still is a paradise for us. Not like prewar years, of course. The Japs are cowards as individuals. You know they become bold and courageous once they get together and do unbelievable things. Like the last war. And they can't even play fair in sports. If a Jap is competing with a foreigner, mob psychology takes over. Did you know that boxing referees and judges hardly ever award decisions to foreign fighters? If a foreigner doesn't win by a knockout, he can't win at all. But individually, the Japs just can't get anything done. Chinks are different, though. There are plenty of them here in Yokohama but they do pretty well.
"Whenever an official comes from the local tax office to get my tax declaration form I just shout at him and off he goes. Never comes back again. They talk about enforcing tax collection more strictly from us foreigners but it never works. Their tax laws are full of loopholes; just like putting water in a bamboo basket.
"You are considered a resident if you lived here on December 31st each year and are liable to income tax payment. So I go away every year for a couple of days to Seoul or Taipei soon after Christmas. Most foreigners do that, you know. Doesn't cost much. Think of what you would have to pay in income tax if you stayed here on December 31 st.
"Their exchange control is kind of funny, too. You are supposed not to change yen into dollars beyond a very small amount. But there are a hundred and one ways of outsmarting the Japs. An American chap, now living in California, recently wanted me to buy his deposit certificate of ten million yen at a discount. I paid him in dollars. You can also take out a bundle of yen notes in a trunk. But be sure to go on a Japanese boat. Japs at this end and at the other end also do not fuss very much, if you are a foreigner."
Alice listened to this fat old man with mixed feelings, as he rambled on. She was married to a Japanese and, legally at any rate, was a Japanese citizen. The old man's abuse of her husband's people made her feel unpleasant, to say the least. But she also wondered if Tom Bowles's words did not contain some grain of truth.
One weekend during the next summer, Saburo took Alice to Karuizawa. This was the first time Saburo had gone out of the city with his wife. That summer was particularly hot and sultry, and the cool mountain air and beautiful pine groves were a welcome change from the sweltering heat of Tokyo and Yokohama.
Karuizawa, located some hundred miles north of Tokyo, was first developed as a summer resort by Alice's compatriot, a missionary named Shaw, sometime in the 1880's. His bronze statue still stood at the end of Main Street in Karuizawa. Alice had heard the history of this famed summer retreat and wondered why it was a countryman of hers, rather than a Japanese, who had discovered and developed the place. Now she remembered what Mrs. Hertz had told her about the Japanese lack of i
nitiative.
Alice fell in love with Karuizawa. It was a delightful place. Though the town itself was small and often congested in the summer season, the surrounding countryside was spacious and Mount Asama, with its smoke-belching volcanic cone, stood out nobly over the area.
"Even today many Japanese come to Karuizawa because so many foreign residents have beautiful summer houses here, and the resort is sometimes called the St. Moritz of Japan," Saburo told Alice.
"A few years ago the Crown Prince spent one summer here and got to know his consort while playing tennis. Since that time, the resort has suddenly become very popular, especially among girls, who associate the place with romance and come here in large numbers."
In the afternoon the couple went for a long walk. In Yokohama Alice seldom went out for a walk, much as she would have liked to, for the streets were narrow and congested and the air polluted. There simply was no place for pedestrians. For the first time in several years, then, she really enjoyed walking in the countryside.
As they returned to town Alice noticed a small shop with a big bulletin board posted on the front. On the board many white stickers with various inscriptions were pasted.
"What are those stickers on the board?" Alice asked Saburo.
"This is a real-estate dealer's office and each sticker gives a description of various properties offered for sale."
Still very curious, Alice asked what were the properties for sale, and their prices. Saburo said that, for instance, there was a villa with a 300-tsubo parcel of land which cost 1,500,000 yen. Alice was interested.
"Couldn't we go and see these properties?" she asked.
"That can easily be arranged, Alice. I'll ask the manager inside."
In those days the Japanese were still busy buying and building their own houses in Tokyo and other urban areas, after the total destruction during the war. Few could afford to buy villas in the country and few, if any, thought of having a country house in Karuizawa. Hence offerings were many and prices low. Alice, then and there, decided to take a 500-tsubo section of land for 1,800,000 yen. The agent agreed to give her a 10 percent discount on the advertised price. She was to get the money from her Anglo-Japanese Institute account.
Alien Rice; A Novel. Page 8
