Support Your Local Dry-Cleaner

Relationships with people who perform needed tasks can be difficult when communication usually consists of gestures and smiles. We lived here almost a year before I was brave enough to venture the eight meter walk to the dry-cleaner. That was three months ago, and I now go about once every two weeks. However, it wasn’t until this week that he asked me where I was from and I responded in Japanese.

As I mentioned earlier, communication consists of smiling and pointing…you’d be surprised how far this can get you. So the first few times, I would come in with three articles of clothing and ¥880 and we’d be fine (three items for ¥880 is the deal posted on the window). But there was a pause this last time because I was slow in getting out money. After a second or two, I said in Japanese, “Japanese money is difficult sometimes.” Speaking Japanese in public is rare for me. I adhere to the proverb, “It’s better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you’re an idiot than open it to remove all doubt.” While I may be able to ask about the weather, sports or job related inquiries; if any more questions are posed I cock my head and stare like a dog being yelled at. I just do not have confidence in speaking a different language. It’s hard. On a side note, if a national is speaking English to you, smile…encouragement is important when you’re trying to come out of your monolingual bubble.

So he laughs after I commented on how the money is difficult. I then explained how in America, we don’t use cash as often as the Japanese. I did the swiping motion, like a check card, several times then apologized for being slow with my payment. He then asked where I worked, and I started to cock my head, then heard my keyword and responded correctly. In a period of about one minute and a half we talked about work, my wife’s work, when I came to Japan and what food I like. Nothing philosophical, but we both understood the ideas each other was conveying.

I was glad my gamble paid off. Because seriously, this guy yells my name anytime we walk by with a smile on his face. His customers always stay behind to talk with him and he has a golden retriever that chills at work with him. I know what you’re thinking; a long haired dog in a dry-cleaner doesn’t make much sense to me either. But he’s a nice dog and his owner is too. My suits are clean, and I miss America a lot. Thanks for reading,

-Paul