Coming to bustling, electric Japan straight from my previous assignment in the Australian outback was a shock. The Ukitas live in Tokyo but reaching their house from the center of the city took three trains and an hour and a half. After they agreed to help out Material World, I spent a week with a family that has morning down to a science.
Kazuo wakes up at the last possible second, has a healthful breakfast--2 Pepsis, 2 cigarettes, 1 cup of coffee, 1 vitamin--and walks out the door at 7:28 sharp. He times himself with a little clock on the TV screen. Then he walks to the station, arriving 45 seconds before the train (which is exactly on time, this being Japan).
After work, Kazuo and I hit the bars together, me with the still and video cameras, him with the microphone to sing karaoke. The next day I went with the two girls to what was either the best dentist in the world or the worst: He gave each a filling in 2 minutes flat.
Sayo, a wonderful cook, was unflappable about hosting a photographer who spoke no Japanese. She didn't blink when a crew of nine dismantled her home for the Big Picture. That evening, we all sat down in a daze and watched TV--a truly multicultural experience.
The Ukitas had a dial on the remote control that allowed them to play either the original soundtrack (English, in this case) or the Japanese dubbing. To let me listen, the family politely set the dial to play both at the same time. As a result, nobody understood a word of dialogue. It was all right, though, because of what we were watching--a TV action film that spoke the universal language of guns, breaking glass, and car chases.
