sute, hak
I was telling Raina the other day how Zen I was while we were in Kyoto last week. A certain potentially devastating situation arose there, which I will now share.
On Monday morning, we left our ryokan (Japanese style inn- we can discuss this later) around 8:30 a.m. About two minutes later, I realized that I had left my rings in the room (what kind of person NEEDS to take off her wedding ring every night?) I told Grant and Heather, and asked if we should go back. Both Grant and I, being lazy and under the "Japan is the safest place on earth" spell decided not to. Had Heather more fervently expressed her opinion, well, I would have no story to tell.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah--- arrive back at the ryokan around 5:00 p.m. Room cleaned, smelling of rotting rice (tatami), everything in its place, etc. Or so we think...Grant finds one of my rings, but (wait for it) the diamond ring is missing. We begin a frantic search of the room- floor, closet, bedding, etc. Not finding it, Grant and I, armed with our rudimentary Japanese, storm the front desk. The clerk, who definitely understands "diamond ringo not here" doesn't stop smiling. I want to burst into tears, but am afraid she will keep smiling her awkard sympathetic smile throughout, and I'll end up comforting her. After painful explanation (wild gesticulating dramatization of "two rings this morning- only one ring now"), one of the employees accompanies us to the room. He commences his own search (Oh, yeah, right. We forgot to look in the most obvious place possible- on the table. Thank you so much for being so thorough, sir...) He's unsuccessful, (that was a surprise) and Grant's frustrated. He says "The ring's been stolen" and asks if he should call the police. The man, whose face does accomodate more than one expression, looks terrified. He says he will be back in a minute. In thirty minutes.
He returns, and hands us a sheet of paper on which is an online translation of something he wants to tell us. It says something like "A person must checking dust bin. Please patient." He also says "Now, research" and bows excessively. I hope this means that the hotel is interrogating the cleaning staff- but it strikes me that it could simply mean "we search." Grant and Heather have decided the ring's been stolen. Sorry to say it, but it's gone, Japan's such a safe place, my ass, etc.
I haven't really reacted yet and it occurs to me that that's probably good. I'm absorbing this whole Buddhist thing, I'm not attached to worldly goods, etc, etc. It's okay, etc, etc. Some place inside, I'm sure I know it's not okay, but I'm rolling with it.
We wait in the room for a few hours. The more time that passes, the more we know it must be gone. We talk about how I'm too trusting, how we really got Japan wrong, etc. I say, but, I just can't imagine one of those sweet ladies stealing my ring. I just can't do it.
A knock at the door. We expect the man from earlier informing us that the dust bin has been "researched" for naught....
It turns out to be a different man, donning latex gloves, offering me my ring!
So...Japan puts its best foot forward on our behalf and we love every one of its inhabitants. Thank you Japanese work ethic. Thank you calming Buddha.
On Monday morning, we left our ryokan (Japanese style inn- we can discuss this later) around 8:30 a.m. About two minutes later, I realized that I had left my rings in the room (what kind of person NEEDS to take off her wedding ring every night?) I told Grant and Heather, and asked if we should go back. Both Grant and I, being lazy and under the "Japan is the safest place on earth" spell decided not to. Had Heather more fervently expressed her opinion, well, I would have no story to tell.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah--- arrive back at the ryokan around 5:00 p.m. Room cleaned, smelling of rotting rice (tatami), everything in its place, etc. Or so we think...Grant finds one of my rings, but (wait for it) the diamond ring is missing. We begin a frantic search of the room- floor, closet, bedding, etc. Not finding it, Grant and I, armed with our rudimentary Japanese, storm the front desk. The clerk, who definitely understands "diamond ringo not here" doesn't stop smiling. I want to burst into tears, but am afraid she will keep smiling her awkard sympathetic smile throughout, and I'll end up comforting her. After painful explanation (wild gesticulating dramatization of "two rings this morning- only one ring now"), one of the employees accompanies us to the room. He commences his own search (Oh, yeah, right. We forgot to look in the most obvious place possible- on the table. Thank you so much for being so thorough, sir...) He's unsuccessful, (that was a surprise) and Grant's frustrated. He says "The ring's been stolen" and asks if he should call the police. The man, whose face does accomodate more than one expression, looks terrified. He says he will be back in a minute. In thirty minutes.
He returns, and hands us a sheet of paper on which is an online translation of something he wants to tell us. It says something like "A person must checking dust bin. Please patient." He also says "Now, research" and bows excessively. I hope this means that the hotel is interrogating the cleaning staff- but it strikes me that it could simply mean "we search." Grant and Heather have decided the ring's been stolen. Sorry to say it, but it's gone, Japan's such a safe place, my ass, etc.
I haven't really reacted yet and it occurs to me that that's probably good. I'm absorbing this whole Buddhist thing, I'm not attached to worldly goods, etc, etc. It's okay, etc, etc. Some place inside, I'm sure I know it's not okay, but I'm rolling with it.
We wait in the room for a few hours. The more time that passes, the more we know it must be gone. We talk about how I'm too trusting, how we really got Japan wrong, etc. I say, but, I just can't imagine one of those sweet ladies stealing my ring. I just can't do it.
A knock at the door. We expect the man from earlier informing us that the dust bin has been "researched" for naught....
It turns out to be a different man, donning latex gloves, offering me my ring!
So...Japan puts its best foot forward on our behalf and we love every one of its inhabitants. Thank you Japanese work ethic. Thank you calming Buddha.
posted by wakarimasen at
9:48 PM
2 Comments:
As if the cleaner really found it in the dustbin! What did the rubber gloves prove? Dustbin my ass. More like a cavity search is what I say! Anyway it all worked out in the end, so Mrs. Zen can have her side of the story if she wants to.
By
Anonymous, at 10:21 PM
kate, keep your rings on!!
By
Sarah, at 12:25 AM
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