Sandra excitedly tells us she has a new job with Shiseido, the Japanese
cosmetics company. “I’ll be demonstrating their products and modelling!”

“Honto! (Really?!)A moderu! (model)”Great, Sandy, good for you!”
Randy exclaims.

I am surprised too, since Sandra is a bit of a cow. She would never be
considered in the West. But why in Japan? If the little traditional kimono-robed
paper dolls I’ve seen here are any ideal of Japanese feminine beauty, a model
would be long and sleek, having a delicate refined face that would make a man’s
heart stop, leaving him stunned. Ecstasy (ekusutashi), well known to advertizing
men everywhere, sells — women want to have that effect. I wonder, has any
Japanese woman has ever looked like that? I have yet to see one.

“They like me because I’m different,” Sandra goes on without conceit. I’m
taller than everyone and they think my hair is blonde.” (It’s light brown.) “What
fun!”

“A toast to Sandy!”

“Randy tells me you’re off to find a Zen monastery, Morley. What will you
do there?” Knapper-san asks.

“I’ll know when I get there,” I reply.

“How is your Japanese coming?”

“Pretty slow,” I reply.

“He’s not working hard enough,” Yoshimi adds.

“Well, I can count to ten now.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, ku, ju. So there!”

Everyone laughs. They all speak Japanese fluently, though everyone is
speaking English (eigo) tonight.

Randy and Yoshimi have been helping me learn Japanese, of course.
Although they are both artists, they have very different approaches to life and to

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Japanby Morley Evans

November 21, 2000