There is a scene in the movie, “The Princess Bride”, where Vizzini, Inigo Montoya, Fezzik (played by Andre the Giant – I can’t believe he didn’t get an academy nod for his supporting role…”Anyone want a peanut?”), and the princess have just scaled the Cliffs of Insanity – thanks to Fezzik. They stand atop the Cliffs looking down, when Vizzini says, “Inconceivable!” Inigo replies, “I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
Pam and I play out this scene on a regular basis. I like to be Inigo, but since I do Vizzini’s lisp better, I usually say his line. Consider the following slopes and ledges of insanity:
We order pizza. The box comes with a menu. More than half of the pizzas have mayonnaise as a standard topping.
“Inconceivable!”
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
Samantha and I walked over to the pond in the middle of the Tokyo University campus. We are greeted by four guards at the gate, backed by two policemen with batons out and ready to strike. We are informed that the students are taking exams today and only students are allowed on campus to maintain quiet. Oh, so this is where the policemen hang out…
“Inconceivable!”
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
It took us THREE MONTHS to get internet.
“Inconceivable!”
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
We live in an older section of Tokyo, and there remain a lot of mom and pop store front shops that have miraculously survived the recession and the influx of chain stores. More remarkable is that each shop will sell one thing, and only one thing. Some of these make sense, such as the hanko shops. The Japanese use pieces of stone, a hanko, that have their name in characters carved into the bottom the way you use a signature in the States. (They really like my signature here!) Hanko’s come in different shapes and sizes and the carving of the characters into the bottom is a precise art. The shops that befuddle me are the cracker shops that only sell crackers wrapped in seaweed. (Inconceivable! I do not think that word means what you think it means.) The umbrella shop (Inconceivable! I do not think that word means what you think it means.) And the hand towel shop specializing in selling towels with zero absorbency. (Inconceivable! I do not think that word means what you think it means.)
Before we left the States, a friend whose brother lives and works in Tokyo made the observation that there are two types of businesses in Japan and a real battle of business philosophy is being played out between them. There are the huge top tier companies that insist on doing business the old way. This translates as very inefficiently. Then there is the new tier of businesses that are growing quickly and understand the need to be more efficient with man power, overhead, inventory etc. This observation is interesting considering Pam’s clients, previous and current, and how they fall into these two grossly oversimplified categories – I could elaborate here, but would have to kill you if I gave out that information. We did not expect to actually experience this dichotomy in our daily lives.
When we arrived, the partner Pam works with, told us that it would be best to set up our bank accounts at Citibank “because they just GET IT.” Ok, so we did. It was the slowest most drawn out experience we had ever gone through, to that point. This of course left us wondering, what does this mean if this is “getting it?”
The school that Samantha will be attending uses a bank. We were told that we needed to set up a bank account at that bank, in order to qualify for a potential scholarship. I, jokingly, asked Pam, “What, their bank doesn’t know how to transfer money from our bank?” “Apparently not,” was her serious reply. (Inconceivable! I do not think that word means what you think it means.) There is a branch of this bank down on the corner, but their hours do not coincide with Pam’s. So Pam suggested we go to the branch near her work.
We meet Pam in the subway at 11:30 and took a five minute walk into the HQ for this bank which is located, literally, in the heart of the Tokyo financial district. Somewhere high above us with their heads in the clouds were bank executives making decisions and presumably making money. We walk in and are greeted by the greeters – yes, just like at Wal-Mart. Instead of a cart and a smile, they bow and give you a number. There are two people being helped, we are pointed to some sofas to sit and wait. We quickly realize that we are going to be waiting awhile. Pam requests the application from the greeter so we can waste our time productively. While you wouldn’t expect your Wal-Mart greeter to ring up your items, you too should not expect your financial headquarters greeter to do anything but bow, point and tell you to wait.
Thirty minutes later, our number was called. Don’t think our wait was without entertainment. There were the two dozen people running around behind the counter while we waited. They must have been busy doing something, because otherwise, why would they have been running around? We realize that the greeters were very helpful pointing people to the two ATM machines in the lobby. Two is surely enough for your financial headquarters. And then there was the lady who was helping an older gentleman set up an account. She was deep into her polite mode. Nodding at everything, answering each question over and over again. Smiling all the while. The man finally finished and she stood and bowed. And bowed again. She waited for him to be completely out of sight, bowing again a number of times as he walked out the door. Her expression immediately changed as he disappeared through the door and she went running in the other direction. Pam and I both started to laugh as it was clear that she desperately needed to use the bathroom. You know, if you are really going to spend that much time with a person to set up an account, you either need to consider some Imodium AD or having a catheter that you can just hook up to under the desk – talk about your sincere smiles. We never saw this lady again, so either she exploded like a water balloon and vanished in a mist, or had to go home and change clothes.
Our number was finally called, and the two greeters led Pam over to the desk where the account needed to be filled out. Yes, it takes two greeters to point you to an ATM or a teller. This is when the fun began and things really slowed down. First of all they wouldn’t let Pam open an account in my name because I wasn’t filling out the form. (Let’s see a bank that doesn’t want your money…Inconceivable!) Pam finally explained that I could neither write nor read Japanese and so she needed to fill it out. The lady had to go ask permission for this serious breach of protocol. The clerk was given permission to proceed, but I had to write my own name; I was not allowed to sign and Pam was not allowed to write my name. Pam fills out the application. I am asked to come over. I smile at the clerk and print my name and go back to quietly entertaining Samantha. (Interestingly, they don’t let people fill out forms, but anyone can use anyone else’s hanko. I guess only honest people have hankos and/or let their spouse use their hanko.) After filling out the form, and stamping it with our hanko, Pam is informed that we can’t open an account because they only allow accounts to be opened at the branch closest to where you live. (As God as my witness, I am not making this up.) INCONCEIVABLE!!!
So not only does this bank not know how to move money between itself and another bank, it apparently has difficulty moving money between its HQ office and its local branches. (You are starting to understand why the Japanese banking system has been blamed for the financial recession and crisis that the country has been in now for over a decade, aren’t you? Have I mentioned that this is one of Japan’s five largest banks, and we are in the financial district where presumably the purpose of life is to make money?) Stuck, but not deterred, Pam sat politely and quietly. (Pam played this correctly; whereas I would have launched into a string of loud unprintable words.) They asked where I worked, because sometimes they allow people to open accounts in branches close to their place of work. (Apparently people don’t know how or when to say, my money will be just as happy at Citibank.) Pam nearly blew the placid façade that was working so well for her when she admitted that I don’t work. As the lady’s face fell, Pam pointed out that I was looking for a job and that she worked close by. This did nothing to impress the lady. She apparently asked if I might end up working close by, and Pam, living on the edge, smiled and said “yes.” This still required the young lady to go to her supervisor and get permission for the umpteenth time.
After an hour and half we walked out of the bank, the two greeters showing us the door, the lady bowing, finally finding something to do with us that didn’t require her to ask her supervisor. She was probably as relieved to see us go as her colleague was to see the old gentleman go.
What’s that? How much money did we put in this account? We spent an hour and a half to open an account for 100 yen. At today’s exchange rate, that is about 94 cents… Inconceivable!