So Alan and I go to the bike section and start looking at the rows and rows of bikes. "Ooh, here's a Harley one!" "Look at this Chevy one!" Wait - What size do we get? We finally decide what size we should get him, based on the chart on the wall and begin our selection. We narrow it down to three and then make our final choice. Well, you know how when you see the bikes at Wal-mart, they're all trashed and knocked over and have flat tires because the darn kids have been riding them all over the store? Well, they've got some smarts here - they don't put pedals on the displays! So, we thought, "I guess we ring this bell for service and ask for the pedals." We figured, despite the language barrier, that should be easy enough. So I rang the bell and a Japanese man (cautiously) approached us. We slowly and loudly told him in English that we wanted this bike and we just needed the pedals. He got a confused look and said something in Japanese. Hm. Problem. I can't tell what the problem is, but I can tell there is one. After a minute or two of us repeating in English that we just needed the pedals so we could buy the bike, and him repeating whatever he was saying in Japanese, he finally was somehow able to get across to us that they would assemble the bike and it would be ready in 30 minutes. So he handed us a ticket to take to the cashier to pay, and then we would come back in 30 minutes. Easy enough.
By now, the babies are a little restless so I told Alan I was going to push them around while he paid for the bike. I checked back with him because it was taking a while and there appeared to be another problem. But I didn't know what it was. Apparently, they were showing Alan a piece of paper with Japanese writing and a price of 500 yen. They were probably explaining what it was, but we couldn't tell. Alan was telling them he didn't know what this was, in English, and they were pressing with a Japanese response. Nothing coming out of Alan's mouth sounded anything like Japanese and nothing coming out of the cashier's mouth sounded anything like English so we were in a bit of a pickle. Finally, the frustrated cashier called over a manager. "Thank God," we thought, "He probably speaks a little English." Nope. More Japanese explanation of the 500 yen. More shaking our heads and asking what it was for. Finally, frustrated enough, the manager just removes the 500 yen charge. Sweet. Now we have to wait our 30 minutes.
While we're walking around, waiting, it occurs to us that the charge was probably an assembly fee. Oh, well. Thirty minutes passes and the same man who wouldn't just give us the pedals brings the bike out. Then, he proceeds to, in front of Alan, make sure each and every screw, nut and bolt is as tight as can be and does one final brake-check. When was the last time Wal-mart did that for you? Once he was satisfied that the bike was safe, he sent us on our way. We really need to learn Japanese.
Fast forward to today: I came across the bike manual and couldn't help but post some pictures. Here's the cover:
THERE ARE ALIENS HERE? AND THEY'RE BUYING BIKES? And what is that guy doing?
Here's an excerpt from page two - it essentially says "Don't have fun and ride this bike like every other kid rides a bike." There's a whole lot'a "don't" in this book. They won't strap their babies in car seats, but God forbid, they should have a little fun on a bike.
One of my favorite illustrated pages - 1) Don't ride in shiny shoes, 2) Don't run into an open car door while riding
Finally, here are a few of Adam showing off his skills :)
2 comments:
What?!? No riding bikes in shiny shoes? Good thing I learned to ride in the States.
Love it!
I am literally roaring over here. I love that they are soliciting that aliens find a local for help. Adam is precious on his two wheeler. What will he call it when he takes off the training wheels?
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