The view from Japan

On our arrival in Japan, we committed a major faux pas.

Last night we arrived in Osaka, the airport right next to Kobe. We were exhausted, having flown to Seoul, hung out in the Seoul airport, and then flown to Osaka. By this time, the kids, and especially Baila, had had enough. She was screaming, on and off.

After passing the 'bird flu' inspections, we made our way to customs. Like we do in every airport we've ever been in with kids, we asked if we could skip the like since we had a small baby. In America, in Israel, especially in Korea, and even in Russia, the airport staff is always rushes us through with the baby.

The linekeeper told us to go to the customs counter. But then the guard there went ballistic. He was furious that we had skipped the line. They called the manager, and then his manager, and they eventually closed the gate we were standing at so we would not be standing in line at all. They made us wait until the end of the entire line - and this was a huge, double decker plane - until finally letting us through.

Apparently you are to never to skip a line in Japan.

We are slowly learning about this culture.

Other than this episode, everyone has been very nice to us. When they see the baby they start smiling and cooing. We hailed a taxi last night, and for some reason still unknown to us due to the language barrier, he could not take us. So he waited with us and helped hail down another cab, only getting into his own car when he was sure the taxi would be taking us.

They are also very honest. The rabbi told us that we would not have to worry about people ripping us off. Today, we saw shoes for sale lined up outside a store. The price tag was attached, and everybody left them alone. In Russia, everything is kept under lock and key.

A taste of Japan

We have decided that Japanese are the polar opposites of the Russians.

We went to the photo shop today to take a picture for Baila's visa. Here's how the photo shoot went:

Photographer got Baila sent up comfortably in the stroller, lined with a white cloth. She took a few pictures and could not get Baila to smile. Still smiling, she called down another employee. Prepared with a stuffed animal, he waved it in front of Baila repeatedly and made ridiculous noises, still trying to get her to smile. We finally had it and told them to keep it as it is.
Yisroel asked how long it would take for the picture to get ready.
"10 minutes." The lady answered.
We asked if it could be done any faster. We were, of course, on a super tight deadline. Yisroel was on the way to the consulate, which closed in 1 1/2 hours, at least an hour train ride away.
"O.K." answered the lady in her best English "8 minutes".

In Russia, we would get one shot. There's no trying for better photos. And in Russia, anything can be done, anytime, anywhere, breaking all the rules, if you ask the right way, or know the right people, or pay the right amount of money.