Office culture... part one?

The lobby
My first day in the office was on Monday. I was met in the hotel lobby by one of my colleagues. I think that I am reasonably easy to spot because I am Western and was sporting that "where am I?" look. A quick, light shake of the hand, introduction and we were off into rush hour by foot.

The crossing
From the hotel it is about a 10 minute walk, or less, to the office. The streets remind me, in a strange way, of San Francisco. That said, there are a couple of exceptions; it's flat and very straight. It's very clean, and the people seem calm and non threatening. It's not the height difference that makes everyone seem that much less threatening; although it is a refreshing change to be above average height. It's the manner in which everyone deports themselves. I don't wish to generalise a population, but in some ways you can observe general behaviour and relate it to culture. Is that what culture is? The normal behaviour for a populus?

We patiently wait in quiet fashion to cross the road, patiently cross the road, and then, patiently, walk to the next road crossing. No pushing, no barging, no shouting, and certainly no dog-do-dodging! It sounds sterile and cold, but really it's not. Something about it is calming (just as well considering the pressure I have in the job at the moment!).

On my walk into the office with Yanagi-san (I'm still ignorant on the san bit, but I think it is polite and something similar to Adamson meaning son of Adam) I notice quite a few more people wearing face masks. The white, sterile lint masks that a dentist may wear to avoid swallowing the splash-back as he high-pressure hoses the coffee stains from your teeth. "Strange", I thought, "SARS was eradicated last year." After reading up, I realised that the wearing of the mask is by those who have caught a common cold. I am assuming it's so they can still go to work for 12 hours a day and not infect their colleagues. Strange really, as I suspect that instead of infecting their work mates, they are actually re-infecting themselves and prolonging the illness. I have only seen women wear the masks.

I arrived in the office on the 12th floor (which is a lot lower than my current abode) and was introduced to the interpreters who will be working on my document (which looks like, in 3 days will reach 60 pages... so why am I still typing?!). I get my fingerprint scanned so I can get into the office and then we are straight into software architecture. Now, at this time I still am considerably jet-lagged. My eyes feel like someone emptied an ashtray into them and my insides are somewhere over Russia, desperately clinging, against their will, to Greenwich Mean Time. "I will not let the side down", I promised myself. We had worked until 1pm when I broke. I said as politely as possible, "Is it worth taking a break now? I could do with some water." It's very likely I was being offensive, but I suspect that my colleagues would have been there right with me until they or I dropped. "Yes, we should have some lunch", Yanagi-san replied. It's difficult to know when the culture is so different, whether lunch is taken!

Hot or Cold Noodles?
It is never very long before the question, "What would you like to eat?" is asked. For me, a person who has studiously avoided Sushi all his life, and the first time in Japan this is the question I was dreading. You hear of sea cucumbers being devoured, deadly puffer fish prepared in front of you and other sea-life being presented with the emphasis on "Life" not failing to pass you by! I had decided to save the Sushi experience until the weekend. Practicality paramount.

"We shall go to a noodle bar"

The noodle bar, like a lot of the restaurants in the area, was a quiet, unassuming eatery. The table we were shown to was in the window area behind a partition. The seats were low wooden benches which I had to climb over to reach my place. In order to achieve that, I had to take my shoes off. A new restaurant experience for me. I ordered safely, hot noodles, which means in a kind of hot fish stock and a bowl of fried pork on a bed of rice. I was politely warned, "We Japanese make a lot of noise when eating noodles. It is necessary." And so they did. I made a social faux-pas...I desperately ate my noodles without holding the bowl nearer my mouth. This is considered rude. It's understandable; you make less mess that way. So, I survived, without going hungry, my first Japanese chopstick eating experience, and I wasn't too far behind my colleagues (no mean feat).

Earthquakes: 0
Social mishaps: 1 known, 27 unknown.

That's more than enough for now. Tomorrow I may divulge the secret of the urinal...but then again...